Ki 

•'1'^ 

■•y..Mi^t: 


if  '.%'f 


;i?5i^.iH$  !*t 


•■•   ■••••:v:-:':::::| 

li'.'^-«*  7i'1" 

••. \ •*  *• '. '  •  ,' '.  •  '•''': 

•''.'' fl  I   BYt      IT 

Jiii 

iiiiuiSKiapl 

ip;it;^'?ri  »  ^ 

\^-il^. 


C^r-^^^l^ 


N   MEMORIAM 


JESSICA  PEIXOTTO 
3864-1941 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arciiive 

in  2007  with  funding  from- 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


littp://www.arcliive.org/details/famousboysliowtlieOOnewyricln        J 


William  Jay,  the  Boy-preacher,  delivering  his  First  Discourse  to  a  rustic 

Congregation.  Page  290. 


^MronK-W.A.TQWNSEND  &B 


FAMOUS    BOYS: 


ASID 


HOW  TIIEY  BECAME  GREAT  MEX.        I 


DEDICATED    TO 


YOUTHS    AND    YOUNG    MEN,  AS  A  STIMULUS 
TO   EARNEST   LIYING. 


e       >    t 


NEW  YORK: 

W.  A  TOWNSEND  AND  COMPANY. 

1861. 


1 
cr/d 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1860,  by 

W.  A.  TOWNSEND  AND  COMPANY, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


GIFT 


PREFACE. 


LoED  Stanley  said  at  Accrington,  "  I  believe 
that  one  of  the  most  important  volumes  that  could 
possibly  be  -written — and  when  it  is  written  it 
ought  to  find  a  place  in  every  hamlet,  almost  in 
every  cottage — would  be  a  biographical  record 
of  a  few  selected  instances  of  those  eminent  and 
illustrious  persons  who,  in  various  occupations  and 
departments  of  life,  have  raised  themselves  from 
the  ranks."  The  reason  is  obvious.  Biography 
serves  the  excellent  purpose  of  informing  the 
irresolute  and  desponding  how  the  true  man  has 
not  repined  but  worked.  If  his  social  position 
has  been  low — the  first  round  on  the  ladder — the 
greater  need  to  work  in  order  to  ascend.  Has 
his  education  been  neglected  ?  does  he  find  him- 
self, when  he  wakes  up  to  his  real  position  in  life, 
ignorant  of  the  mere  rudiments  of  knowledge  ? — 

ivil41164 


VI  PREFACE. 

nil  desperandumy  others  have  been  Hke  him,  and 
by  dint  of  diligence  and  patience  greater  diffi- 
culties have  been  overcome  ;  he  also  will  gird 
himself  right  manfully  for  the  fight.  Biography 
has  no  truer  lesson  to  teach  than  this,  that  as  sure 
as  any  object  is  pursued  with  diligence,  with  in- 
dustry, with  unfaltering  perseverance,  whether  it 
is  mental  improvement,  the  attainment  of  honor- 
able independence,  or  progress  in  any  good  and 
useful  work,  the  end  desired  is  certain  to  be 
attained.  There  is  no  law  so  sure,  there  is  no 
end  so  certain,  as  that  industry  meets  with  its  just 
reward. 

Every  youth,  doubtless,  in  his  first  start  in  life, 
purposes  to  have  an  object,  to  make  life  practical 
and  real.  In  such  an  epoch  of  personal  history, 
good  intentions  and  earnest  resolves  are  em- 
braced ;  a  strict  line  of  conduct  is  marked  out, 
and,  as  it  is  supposed,  an  undeviating  life  entered 
upon.  But  there  come  the  blandishments  and 
seductions  of  ease  and  pleasure,  and  the  number- 
less excitements  which  drive  away  purposes  and 
resolutions  to  dare  nobly  and  act  truly.  Subse- 
quently, it  may  be,  a  review  of  the  past  may  show 
the  pathway  of  life  strewn  with  good  intentions, 
with  the  wrecks  and  waifs  of  purposes  uncom- 


PREFACE.  VU 

pleted  and  promises  unfulfilled.  At  such  a  time 
there  is  no  refuge  in  the  belief  that  circumstances 
have  been  adverse.  Circumstances  and  oppor- 
tunities are  not  needed  to  make  great  men ;  great 
men  make  opportunities.  The  strong,  resolute 
man,  the  courageous,  determined  youth,  are  not 
swayed  by  obstacles  or  unforeseen  difficulties; 
these  hindrances,  which  turn  away  the  timid  and 
less  courageous,  only  serve  to  make  them  more 
energetic  and  resolute.  How  many  youths  are 
there  who  will  pass  through  life  with  the  keenest 
mental  capabilities,  but,  lacking  purpose  and  de- 
termination, will  achieve  nothing — dying  as  though 
they  had  not  Uved !  More  than  every  other  thing, 
action  is  the  one  thing  needful.  A  purpose  once 
formed,  and  then  death  or  victory.  It  is  in  these 
respects  that  the  lives  of  Famous  Boys,  and  the 
biography  of  great  men,  serve  for  examples  and 
encouragement  to  those  vacillating  between  desire 
and  execution — the  intention  and  the  fulfilment  of 
a  noble  purpose. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGK 

Daniel  Websteb        .  .            .            .11 

Samuel  Drew      .            •  •            .           19 

Benjamin  Franklin  .  .            .            .44 

Robert  Burns      ....  64 

Elisha  Kent  Kane    .  .            .            .64 

Henry  Clay         .            .  •            .           16 

John  Leyden              .  .            .            .85 

James  Montgomery         .  .            •         100 

Nathaniel  Bowditch  .            .            .116 

Henry  Havelock            .  ,            .         124 

David  Livingstone    .  .            .            .136 

Oliver  Evans       .            .  ,            .         157 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge  .            •            .163 

Robert  Fulton.   .            •  •            .174 

John  Kiito     .            •  •            •            .  179 


X 

CONTENTS. 

Humphrey  Davy 

PACK 

205 

Amos  Lawrence 

• 

•           • 

.  218 

Stephen  Girard  . 

229 

Sam  u  el  Crompton 

. 

•           • 

.  241 

Thomas  Chalmers 

254 

Jacques  Laffitie 

. 

•            • 

.  264 

John  James  Audubon 

279 

"William  Jay  , 

• 

•           • 

.  284 

Roger  Sherman  , 

297 

FiMOUS  Bors. 


DAOTEL  WEBSTEE. 

On  the  18th  of  January,  1782,  at  Salisbury,  in 
the  state  of  New  Hampshire,  Daniel  Webster,  the 
intellectual  giant  of  his  generation,  came  into  the 
world.  His  ancestors  were  of  Scotch  descent, 
and  had  resided  in  the  immediate  vicinity  from  the 
earliest  times.  His  fiither  is  described  as  "  a  man 
of  large  and  stalwart  form,  of  swarthy  complexion, 
and  of  remarkable  features;  of  clear  intellect, 
strong  convictions,  and  indomitable  will.  Many 
of  these  traits  survived  in  his  illustrious  son." 

Young  Daniel  received  the  first  rudiments  of  his 
education  from  his  mother,  who  was  a  woman  of 
superior  intellect.  She  prophesied,  it  was  said, 
that  her  son  would  become  eminent,  and  lived  to 
see  him  a  member  of  Congress.  We  cannot  help 
our  regrets  that  she  did  not  live  to  see  him  in  the 
full  meridian  of  his  glory — a  "  locomotive  *  in 
breeches,"  as  Sydney  Smith  described  him,  the 


1^<  Vj  i  )  'II     I  cSt^lmoIjs  boys. 

grandest  intellect  of  his  age,  the  wonder,  admira- 
tion, and  delight  of  his  countrymen. 

To  a  little  log  school-house,  situated  about  a 
half  a  mile  distant  from  the  farm,  Webster  was 
occasionally  sent — that  is,  whenever  he  could  be 
spared  from  home.  "He  was  the  brightest  in 
the  school,"  wrote  the  master,  many  years  after- 
ward, "  and  Ezekiel  (his  brother)  next ;  but  Daniel 
was  much  quicker  at  his  studies.  He  would  learn 
more  in  five  minutes  than  another  boy  in  five 
hours.  One  Saturday,  I  remember,  I  held  up  a 
handsome  new  jack-knife  to  the  scholars,  and 
said,  the  boy  who  would  commit  to  memory  the 
greatest  number  of  verses  in  the  Bible  by  Monday 
morning  should  have  it.  Many  of  the  boys  did 
well ;  but  when  it  came  to  Daniel's  turn  to  recite, 
I  found  that  he  had  committed  so  much  that,  after 
hearing  him  repeat  some  sixty  or  seventy  verses, 
I  was  obliged  to  give  up,  he  telling  me  that  there 
were  several  chapters  yet  that  he  had  learned. 
Daniel  got  that  jack-knife." 

But  during  all  the  busy  periods  of  the  year, 
Daniel  was  obliged  to  assist  his  father,  which 
rendered  progress  in  his  studies  very  irregular. 
But  Daniel  was  bent  on  obtaining  knowledge  ;  he 
read  and  studied  every  opportunity.  It  is  related 
that  while  assisting  his  father  at  a  little  saw-mill 
where  he  worked,  he  always  carried  with  him 
some  favorite  author,  and  while  waiting  for  the 
saw  to  pass  through  the  logs,  which  occupied  about 
ten  minutes,  he  employed  these  brief  intervals  by 


DANIEL    WEB8TEE.  13 

eagerly  devouring  the  contents  of  the  volume. 
And  so  tenacious  was  the  memory  of  this  remark- 
able man,  that  in  the  very  last  year  of  his  life  he 
was  enabled  to  recite  large  portions  of  the  works 
he  had  committed  in  this  manner.  But  his  books 
were  necessaril^^few,  and  the  young  giant  already 
panted  for  wider  opportunities  and  a  larger  field 
of  operation.  So  scarce  were  books,  that  you  will 
be  surprised  to  learn  that  the  great  expounder  of 
the  constitution  first  became  acquainted  with  that 
immortal  instrument  by  perusing  it,  printed  on  a 
cotton  pocket-handkerchief  imported  from  Eng- 
land. Such  are  the  little  beginnings  of  some  of 
the  profoundest  scholars  and  greatest  men  of  the 
world.  "  Despise  not  the  day  of  small  things," 
but  let  every  boy  remember  to  lay  hold  and  make 
use  of  every  thing  that  falls  in  his  way ;  if  he 
cannot  obtain  books  let  him  study  newspapers ;  let 
nothing  escape  him  what  will  afford  him  informa- 
tion, and  opportunities  will  multiply  as  he  ad- 
vances along  the  road  of  life. 

When  Daniel  had  attained  his  fourteenth  year, 
he  spent  a  few  months  at  the  Phillips  Academy, 
Exeter.  Here  he  mastered  the  English  grammar, 
and  commenced  the  study  of  Latin.  In  his  fifteenth 
year  he  passed  a  few  months  under  the  tuition  of 
the  Rev.  Samuel  Woods,  a  popular  divine,  who 
prepared  boys  for  college,  at  one  dollar  a  week  for 
tuition  and  board.  Daniel  was  studious,  but  some- 
what regardless  of  the  fi^s  of  the  establishment. 
He  was  very  fond  of  hunting,  a  passion  which  ad- 


14  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

hered  to  him  imtil  his  death,  and  Mr.  Woods, 
for  some  offence  in  this  particular,  required  him 
to  commit  to  memory  as  a  punishment  a  hundred 
lines  of  Virgil.  This  was  no  task  whatever  to 
Daniel ;  and  as  Mr.  Woods,  on  the  next  day, 
wanted  to  get  away  from  schocj  at  the  earliest 
moment  in  order  to  keep  an  appointment  in  a 
neighboring  village,  but  before  closing  school  was 
to  hear  the  hundred  lines,  young  Webster  deter- 
mined to  have  a  httle  revenge.  He  presented 
himself  before  his  master  at  the  proper  hour,  book 
in  hand,  and  with  great  fluency  repeated  the 
hundred  lines.     His  instructor  commended  him. 

"  I  have  a  few  more  lines  that  I  can  recite,"  said 
the  mischievous  Daniel. 

Mr.  Woods  was  about  to  close  the  book,  but  he 
requested  him  to  proceed.  A  second  hundred 
lines  were  repeated  as  easily  as  the  first. 

"  You  are  a  smart  boy,"  said  Mr.  Woods,  pre- 
paring to  depart. 

"I  have  a  few  more  I  can  recite,  sir,"  said 
Daniel  quietly. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?"  said  the  instructor,  who  was 
already  behind  hand  with  his  engagement. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  about  five  hundred,  I  think,"  replied 
Webster,  with  the  greatest  unconcern. 

"That's  enough,  Dan,"  quickly  replied  the  in- 
structor, whom,  as  matters  proved,  was  the  only 
one  punished.  *'  You  may  have  the  whole  day  for 
pigeon-shooting,"  and  the  disconcerted  tutor  made 
haste  to  escape  Irom  his  pupil. 


DANIEL   WEBSTEK.  15 

Young  Webster  exHibited  a  promise  so  extraor- 
dinary, and  evinced  an  ajDtitude  for  study  so  re- 
markable, that  his  father,  although  ill  able  to  bear 
the  expense,  determined  to  send  him  to  college. 
In  obedience  with  this  resolve,  he  was  sent  to 
Dartmouth,  where  he  graduated  in  1801.  Greatly 
impressed  with  the  advantages  of  a  collegiate 
education,  immediately  upon  his  return  home  he 
determined  to  secure  to  his  brother  Ezekiel  similar 
advantages,  and  in  order  to  obtain  funds  for  this 
purpose,  he  resolved  to  become  a  schoolmaster. 
He  went  to  Fryeburg,  Me.,  and  accepted  a  situa- 
tion with  a  salary  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  per  annum ;  and  in  order  to  increase  this 
sum,  he  devoted  his  evenings  to  the  laborious 
occupation  of  copying  deeds  for  the  County  Re- 
corder at  twenty-five  cents  each.  It  was  this  latter 
occupation  that  directed  his  attention  to  the  study 
of  the  law — he  read  Blackstone  and  other  sub- 
stantial works.  Mr.  Webster  describes  himself  at 
this  period  as  "  long,  slender,  pale,  and  all  eyes." 
He  was  known  around  the  country  by  the  nick- 
name of  All  Eyes.  He  was  steady  in  his  habits ; 
industrious  and  studious,  his  only  recreation  being 
trout-fishing.  He  soon  after  took  up  the  regular 
study  of  the  law  with  Mr.  Gore,  and  in  1805  was 
admitted  to  practice  in  Boston.  He  now  rapidly 
advanced  on  a  career  of  prosperity ;  he  obtained 
practice,  attracted  attention,  and  was  spoken  of  as 
a  rising  young  member  of  the  bar.  In  1822  he 
was  elected  member  of  Congress,  and  there  began 


16  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

that  grand  public  career  which  every  American 
knows  by  heart.  His  wisdom,  his  statesmanship, 
his  eloquence,  his  wonderful  intellectual  capacity, 
do  not  need  to  be  dwelt  upon.  It  is  our  business 
simply  to  point  out  the  paths  by  which  he  attained 
his  transcendent  honors. 

Daniel  Webster  was  clearly  a  man  of  enormous 
mental  capacity,  but  his  great  native  endowments, 
unaccompanied  with  labor,  method,  determination, 
would  never  have  resulted  so  brilliantly.  "He 
had  the  genius  and  the  inclination,"  says  a  bio- 
grapher, "to  do  things  perfectly;  to  do  every 
thing  as  well  as  it  could  be  done."  A  very  great 
secret  of  success,  let  us  say,  and  we  advise  the 
reader  never  to  let  that  slovenly  sentiment  of 
"make-do"  get  into  his  brain.  Avoid  all  luke- 
warmness ;  work  with  zeal ;  do  what  you  attempt 
to  do  with  all  your  might.  "  In  the  bright  lexicon 
of  aspiring  youth  there's  no  such  word  as  failP'' 
Remember  that,  and  strike  hard,  strike  with  cour- 
age ;  hammer  at  your  labor  until  the  thing  is  done 
—and  never  stop  short  of  perfection  if  you  can 
help  it.  Webster  was  an  early  riser,  and  very 
methodical  in  his  labors.  "  What  little  I  have  ac- 
complished," he  used  to  say,  "  has  been  done  early 
in  the  morning."  He  was  usually  up  and  in  his 
study  by  five  o'clock ;  this  gave  him  two  or  three 
hours  before  breakfast — two  or  three  hours  before 
half  the  world  had  commenced  their  daily  tasks. 
His  was  the  same  plan  as  that  pursued  by  Sir 
Walter  Scott,  who  wrote  nearly  all  his  wonderful 


DANIEL  AVEBSTEK.  17 

books  in  this  way ;  frequently  when  his  house  was 
full  of  guests  he  appeared  at  the  breakfast-table 
after  a  three  hours'  sitting,  and  in  that  way  would 
write  an  entire  romance,  and  yet  be  scarcely  missed 
by  his  visitors. 

Mr.  Webster  was  passionately  fond  of  out-door 
recreation ;  he  was  excessively  fond  of  gunning, 
and  perhaps  nothing  gave  him  greater  satisfaction 
than  a  quiet  day's  fishing.  "  In  his  domestic  habits 
he  was  remarkable  for  a  graceful  playfulness  and 
a  complete  unbending  to  the  sportive  impulse  of 
the  moment.  When  he  arose  in  the  morning  he 
might  be  heard  singing  a  scrap  of  discordant 
melody,  much  to  his  own  amusement.  He  gener- 
ally Avound  up  on  such  occasions  with  the  remark 
that  if  there  was  any  thing  he  understood  well  it 
was  singing.  He  had  a  fondness,  too,  for  spelling 
out,  in  the  most  unheard-of  manner,  the  various 
familiar  remarks  which  he  had  occasion  to  utter. 
The  lowing  of  a  cow  or  the  cawing  of  a  crow  has 
sometimes  started  him  not  only  to  imitate  those 
creatures  with  his  own  voice,  but  nearly  all  the 
other  animals  that  were  ever  heard.  He  was  also 
in  the  habit,  when  in  a  certain  mood,  of  grotesque- 
ly employing  the  Greek,  Latin,  and  French  lan- 
guages, with  a  sprinkling  of  Yankee  and  Western 
phrases,  in  familiar  conversation ;  and  he  had  an 
amusing  way  of  conjugating  certain  proper  names, 
and  of  describing  the  characters  of  unknown  per- 
sons by  the  meaning  of  their  names.  He  was, 
withal,  one  of  the  best  story-tellers  in  the  world. 


18  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

and  everything  lie  related  in  that  line  had  a  good 
climax.  When  fishing,  he  used  to  round  oif  sen- 
tences for  future  use,  and  many  a  trout  has  heen 
apostrophized  in  imperishable  prose.  A  couple  of 
fine  fish  were  passed  into  his  basket  with  the  fol- 
lowing rhetorical  flourish,  which  was  subsequently 
heard  in  the  Bunker  Hill  Oration :  '  Venerable 
men !  you  have  come  down  to  us  from  a  former 
generation.  Heaven  has  bounteously  lengthened 
out  your  lives  that  you  might  behold  this  day.'  " 

Daniel  Webster  died  on  the  twenty-fourth  day 
of  October,  1852,  in  the  seventy-first  year  of  his 
age. 


SAMUEL  DKEW. 

The  instances  are  so  numerous  of  great  men 
being  in  their  youthful  years  poor  and  subjected 
to  privation,  unfriended  and  uninstructed,  that  the 
reader  of  biography  almost  looks  upon  that  condition 
of  early  life  as  necessary  to  future  greatness.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  overcoming  difficulties  early 
is  a  ti'aining  and  an  education,  which  no  amount 
of  mere  scholastic  teaching  can  supply ;  and  that 
that  boy,  who  succeeds  in  throwing  from  him 
habits  and  practices  formed  in  the  company  of 
dissolute  and  wicked  companions,  has  already  laid 
the  foundation  of  a  life,  it  may  be,  of  usefulness 
and  honor.  If  our  admiration  is  excited  at  the 
narration  of  some  deed  of  daring  or  perilous  ad- 
venture, how  ought  we  to  treasure  every  example 
of  perseverance  under  difficulties,  especially,  as  in 
the  case  of  Samuel  Drew,  those  difficulties  being 
overcome,  a  position  of  intellectual  greatness  was 
attained,  not  surpassed  by  the  most  gifted  scholars 
of  any  age  ? 

Samuel  Drew  was  born  near  St.  Austell,  in 
Cornwall,  England,  March  3,  1765.  His  father 
was  a  husbandman,  and  followed,  also,  the  occu- 


20  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

palion  of  "  streaming ;"  but  neither  means  of  liv- 
ing secured  his  family  against  the  chilling  in- 
fluences of  poverty.  But  still  he  contrived  to 
send  his  two  boys,  Samuel  and  Jabez,  to  a  day- 
school  at  St.  Austell.  Jabez  was  evidently  in  love 
with  the  instruction  he  received ;  but  Samuel,  the 
subject  of  this  sketch,  preferred  to  absent  himself 
from  the  school  as  often  as  opportunity  permitted. 
His  mother  partially  supplied  the  deficiency  by 
giving  him  reading  lessons  at  home;  and  his 
brother,  also,  gave  him  some  little  instruction  in 
writing.  His  mother  appears  to  have  been  an  in- 
valuable woman,  whose  simple  teaching  left  an 
impression  that  remained  with  him  his  lifelong. 
Of  one  incident  he  thus  speaks :  "  I  well  remem- 
ber, in  my  early  days,  when  my  mother  was  alive, 
that  she  invariably  took  my  brother  and  me  by  the 
hand,  and  led  us  to  the  house  of  prayer.  Her 
kind  advice  and  instruction  were  unremitting ;  and 
even  when  death  had  closed  her  eyes  in  darkness, 
the  impression  remained  long  upon  my  mind,  and 
I  sighed  for  a  companion  to  accompany  me  thither. 
On  one  occasion,  I  well  recollect,  we  were  return- 
ing from  the  chapel,  at  St.  Austell,  on  a  bright  and 
beautiful  starlight  night,  when  my  mother  pointed 
out  the  stars  as  the  work  of  an  Almighty  Parent, 
to  whom  we  were  indebted  for  every  blessing. 
Struck  with  the  representation,  I  felt  a  degree  of 
gratitude  and  adoration  which  no  language  could 
express,  and  through  nearly  all  the  night  enjoyed 
ineffable  rapture." 


SAMUi<:L  mi::\\'.  til 

Rude  and  callous  as  Samuel  was,  the  death  of 
his  mother  much  aflfected  hhn.  His  best  friend 
was  gone.  By  the  time  he  was  eight  years  old  he 
was  placed  to  work  as  a  huddle-boy^  for  which  he 
received  three  halfpence  per  day.  Tlie  example 
imd  immorality  of  the  boys  amongst  whom  he 
wocked  did  him  serious  injury.  Samuel's  father 
was  a  rehgious  man;  but,  owing  to  accepting 
many  engagements  to  teach  and  preach  to  stran- 
gers, he  had  no  time  to  devote  to  his  own  house- 
hold ;  thus  Samuel  and  his  brother  were  neglected. 

In  the  year  17*76,  and  before  he  had  finished  his 
eleventh  year,  Samuel  was  apprenticed  to  a  shoe- 
maker residing  about  three  miles  from  St.  Austell. 
His  condition  there  is  best  expressed  in  his  own 
words :  "  My  new  abode,"  he  wr6te,  "  at  St.  Bla- 
zey,  and  new  engagements,  were  far  from  being 
pleasing.  To  any  of  the  comforts  and  conveniences 
of  life  I  was  an  entire  stranger,  and  by  every  mem- 
ber of  the  family  was  viewed  as  an  underling,  come 
thither  to  subserve  their  wishes,  or  obey  their 
mandates.  To  his  trade  of  shoemaker  my  master 
added  that  of  farmer.  He  had  a  few  acres  of 
ground  under  his  care,  and  was  a  sober,  indus- 
trious man ;  but,  unfortunately  for  me,  nearly  one 
half  of  my  time  was  taken  up  in  agricultural  pur- 
suits. On  this  account,  I  made  no  proficiency  in 
my  business.  While  in  this  place  I  suffered  many 
hardships.  When,  after  having  been  in  the  fields 
all  day,  I  came  home  with  cold  feet,  and  damp  and 
dirty  stockings,  if  the  oven  had  been  heated  dur- 


22  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

ing  the  day,  I  was  permitted  to  throw  my  stock- 
ings into  it,  that  they  might  be  dry  against  the 
following  mornu]g ;  but  frequently  have  I  had  to 
put  them  on  in  precisely  the  same  state  in  which  I 
had  left  them  the  preceding  evening.  To  mend 
my  stockings,  I  had  no  one ;  and  frequently  have 
I  wept  at  the  holes,  which  I  could  not  conceal ; 
though,  when  fortunate  enough  to  procure  a  stock- 
ing-needle and  some  worsted,  I  have  drawn  the 
outlines  of  the  hole  together,  and  made  what  I 
thought  a  tolerable  job. 

"  During  my  apprenticeship  many  bickerings 
and  unpleasant  occurrences  took  place.  Some  of 
these  preyed  with  so  much  severity  on  my  mmd, 
that  several  times  I  had  determined  to  run  away, 
and  either  enlist  on  board  of  a  privateer  or  a 
man-of-war.  A  kind  and  gracious  Providence, 
however,  invariably  defeated  my  purposes,  and 
threw  unexpected  obstacles  in  the  way,  at  the 
moment  when  my  schemes  were  apparently  on  the 
eve  of  accomplishment. 

"  In  some  part  of  my  servitude,  a  few  numbers 
of  Tlie  Weekly  Entertainer  were  brought  to  my 
master's  house.  This  little  publication,  which  was 
then  extensively  circulated  in  the  west  of  England, 
contained  many  tales  and  anecdotes  which  greatly 
interested  me.  Into  the  narratives  of  adventures 
connected  wdth  the  then  American  war,  I  entered, 
w^ith  all  the  zeal  of  a  partisan,  on  the  side  of  the 
Americans.  The  history  of  Paul  Jones,  the  Sera- 
pis,  and  the   Bon  Homme  Richard,  by  frequent 


SAMUEL   DREW.  23 

reading,  and  daily  dwelling  upon  them  in  the  al- 
most solitary  chamber  of  my  thoughts,  grew  up 
into  a  lively  image  in  my  fancy,  and  I  felt  a  strong 
desire  to  join  myself  to  a  pirate  ship ;  but,  as.  I 
had  no  money,  and  scarcely  any  clothes,  the  idea 
and  scheme  was  vain.  Besides  these  Entertainers^ 
the  only  book  which  I  remember  to  have  seen  in 
the  house  Avas  an  odd  number  of  the  History  of 
England,  about  the  time  of  the  Commonwealth. 
With  the  reading  of  this  I  was  at  first  pleased; 
but  when,  by  frequent  perusal,  I  had  nearly 
learned  it  by  heart,  it  became  monotonous,  and 
was  shortly  afterward  thrown  aside.  With  this, 
I  lost  not  only  a  disj^osition  for  reading,  but  al- 
most ability  to  read.  The  clamor  of  my  compan- 
ions and  others  engrossed  nearly  the  whole  of  my 
attention,  and,  so  far  as  my  slender  means  would 
allow,  carried  me  onward  toward  the  vortex  of 
dissipation. 

"One  circumstance  I  must  not  omit  to  notice, 
during  this  period  of  my  life,  as  it  strikingly  marks 
the  superintending  providence  of  God.  I  was 
sent  one  day  to  a  neighboring  common,  bordering 
on  the  seashore,  to  see  that  my  master's  sheep 
were  safe,  and  together.  Having  discharged  my 
duty,  I  looked  toward  the  sea,  which,  I  presume, 
could  not  be  less  than  two  hundred  feet  below 
me.  I  saw  the  seabirds  busily  employed  provid- 
ing for  their  young,  flying  about  midway  between 
the  sea  and  the  elevation  on  which  I  stood,  when 
I  was  seized  with  a  strange  resolution  to  descend 


24  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

the  cliff,  and  make  my  way  to  the  place  where 
they  had  built  their  nests.  It  was  a  desperate 
and  dangerous  attempt ;  but  I  determined  to  per- 
severe. My  danger  increased  at  every  step ;  and 
at  length  I  found  that  a  projecting  rock  prohibited 
my  further  progress.  I  then  attempted  to  re- 
treat, but  found  the  task  more  difficult  and  haz- 
ardous than  that  I  had  already  encountered.  I 
was  now  perched  on  a  narrow  ledge  of  a  rock, 
about  a  hundred  feet  below  the  edge  of  the 
cliff,  and  nearly  the  same  height  above  the  ocean. 
To  turn  myself  round,  I  found  to  be  impossible ; 
there  was  no  hand  to  help,  no  eye  to  pity,  no 
voice  to  soothe.  My  spirits  began  to  fail.  I  saw 
nothing  before  me  but  inevitable  destruction,  and 
dreaded  the  moment  when  I  should  be  dashed  in 
pieces  upon  the  rocks  below.  At  length,  by  creep- 
ing backward  about  one-eighth  of  an  inch  at  a 
step,  I  reached  a  nook  where  I  was  able  to  turn, 
and  happily  succeeded  in  escaping  the  destruction 
which  I  had  dreaded." 

This  was  not  his  last  adventure  that  nearly  ter- 
minated with  the  loss  of  life.  He  had  a  certain 
amount  of  shrewdness  and  cunning  in  his  compo- 
sition that  predisposed  him  for  speculation  and 
adventure.  This  was,  no  doubt,  induced  to  a  large 
extent  by  the  dissatisfaction  he  felt  at  the  menial 
drudgery  to  which  he  was  subjected  by  his  mis- 
tress. This  naturally  induced  him  to  seek  com- 
panionship from  home,  there  being  no  love  or  at- 
traction at  home.     The  result  was  that  he  formed 


SAMUEL   DREW.  25 

tlie  acquaintance  of  the  idle  and  dissolute,  and  be- 
ca,me,  as  a  consequence,  vicious  and  morally  de- 
based. At  this  time  Cornwall  was  celebrated  for 
the  nimiber  of  smugglers  to  be  found  on  the  coast. 
It  would  have  been  strange  indeed  if  Samuel,  with 
his  love  of  adventure  and  course  of  reading,  had 
not  connected  himself  with  these  domestic  free- 
booters. Of  course  his  absence  on  these  occasions 
was  without  the  knowledge  or  consent  of  his  mas- 
ter. But  the  boy  who  was  only  deterred  from 
joining  Paul  Jones  because  he  had  no  money  or 
clothes,  would  not  hesitate  to  run  a  cargo  of 
French  goods  or  foreign  spirits,  without  much 
fear  either  of  master  or  revenue  officer.  Samuel's 
respect  for  his  master  would  be  considerably  dim- 
inished from  the  fact  that  he  took  no  means  to 
teach  him  his  business;  this,  conjoined  to  the 
treatment  of  his  mistress,  who  seemed  to  view 
him  as  the  most  abject  menial,  would  necessarily 
render  him  callous  and  intractable.  One  of  his 
early  associates  remarked:  "I  believe  Sam  was 
a  difficult  boy  to  manage ;  but  he  was  made  worse 
by  the  treatment  he  received.  I  was  once  in  the 
shop,  when,  for  a  very  small  offence,  his  master 
struck  him  violently  with  the  last,  and  maimed 
him  for  a  time.  Such  usage  only  made  him  surly, 
and  caused  him  to  dislike  his  master  and  his 
work."  This  treatment  determined  him  to  leave 
his  master ;  when  he  did  so,  his  funds  were  only 
sixteenpence  halfpenny!  He  subsequently  thus 
describes  his  adventure :  "  I  thought  of  traveling 


26  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

to  Plymouth,  to  seek  a  berth  on  board  a  king's 
ship.  Instead  of  taking  the  short  road,  where  I 
feared  my  father  might  fall  in  with  me,  I  went  on 
toward  Liskeard,  through  the  night,  and,  feeling 
fatigued,  went  into  a  hayfield  and  slept.  My  lug- 
gage was  no  incumbrance,  as  the  whole  of  my 
property,  besides  the  clothes  I  wore,  was  con- 
tained in  a  small  handkerchief.  Not  knowing  how 
long  I  should  have  to  depend  upon  my  slender 
stock  of  cash,  I  found  it  necessary  to  use  the  most 
rigid  economy.  Having  to  pay  a  halfpenny  for 
passing  either  a  ferry  or  toll-bridge,  feeling  my 
present  situation,  and  knowing  nothing  of  my  fu- 
ture prospects,  this  small  call  upon  my  funds  dis- 
tressed me ;  I  wept  as  I  went  on  my  way ;  and, 
even  to  the  present  time,  I  feel  a  pang  when  I  re- 
collect the  circumstance. 

"  The  exertion  of  walking,  and  the  fresh  morn- 
ing air,  gave  me  a  keener  appetite  than  I  thought 
it  prudent  to  indulge.  I,  however,  bought  a  penny 
loaf  at  the  first  place  I  passed  where  bread  was 
sold,  and,  with  a  halfpennyworth  of  milk,  in  a 
farmer's  house,  ate  half  of  my  loaf  for  breakfast. 
In  passing  through  Liskeard,  my  attention  w^as  at- 
tracted by  a  shoemaker's  shop,  in  the  door  of  which 
a  respectable-looking  man,  whom  I  supposed  to  be 
the  master,  w^as  standing.  Without  any  intention 
of  seeking  employment  in  this  place,  I  asked  him 
if  he  could  give  me  w^ork ;  and  he,  taking  com- 
passion, I  suppose,  on  my  sorry  appearance, 
promised  to  employ  me  the  next  morning.     Be- 


SAMUEL   DREW.  27 

fore  I  could  go  to  work  tools  were  necessary,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  lay  out  a  shilling  on  these.  Din- 
ner, under  such  circumstances,  was  out  of  the 
question  ;  for  supper  I  bought  another  halfpenny- 
worth of  milk,  ate  the  remainder  of  my  loaf,  and 
for  my  lodging  again  had  recourse  to  the  fields. 
In  the  morning  I  purchased  another  penny  loaf, 
and  commenced  my  labor.  My  employer  soon 
found  that  I  was  a  miserable  tool ;  yet  he  treated 
me  kindly,  and  his  son  took  me  beside  him  in  the 
shop,  and  gave  me  instruction.  I  had  now  but  one 
penny  left,  and  this  I  wished  to  husband  till  my 
labor  brought  a  supply ;  so,  for  dinner  I  tied  my 
apron-strmg  tighter,  and  went  on  with  my  work. 
My  abstinence  subjected  me  to  the  jeers  of  my 
shopmates,  thus  rendering  the  pangs  of  hunger 
doubly  bitter.  One  of  them,  I  remember,  said  to 
another,  '  Where  does  our  shopmate  dine  ?'  and 
the  response  was,  '  Oh !  he  always  dines  at  the 
sign  of  the  mouth.'  Half  of  the  penny  loaf  which 
I  took  with  me  in  the  morning  I  had  allotted  for 
my  supper ;  but  before  night  came,  I  had  pinched 
it  nearly  all  away  in  mouthfuls,  through  mere 
hunger.  Very  reluctantly,  I  laid  out  my  last 
penny,  and,  with  no  enviable  feelings,  sought  my 
former  lodging  in  the  open  air.  With  no  other 
breakfast  than  the  fragments  of  my  last  loaf,  I 
again  sat  dow^n  to  work.  At  dinner  time — look- 
ing, no  doubt,  very  much  famished — my  master 
kindly  said,  '  If  you  wish,  I  will  let  you  have  a 
little  money  on  account ;'  an  offer  which  I  very 


28  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

joyfully  accepted.  This  was,  however,  my  last 
day's  employment  here.  Discovering  that  I  was  a 
runaway  apprentice,  my  new  master  dismissed  me, 
with  a  recommendation  to  return  to  the  old  one ; 
and  while  he  was  talking,  my  brother  came  to  the 
door  with  a  horse  to  take  me  home." 

He  only  returned,  however,  on  the  condition 
that  he  should  not  be  expected  to  resume  work 
with  his  old  master,  with  whom  arrangements 
were  subsequently  made,  and  Samuel's  indentures 
cancelled.  After  staying  at  home  for  a  few  months, 
work  was  obtained  for  him  with  Mr.  Williams,  at 
Millbrook.  This  place  was  more  congenial  to 
Samuel's  tastes  and  disposition.  It  was  remark- 
able for  the  stir  and  bustle  which  pervaded  it, 
being  a  naval  station  of  some  importance.  He 
was  also  more  comfortable  in  his  situation ;  there 
was  a  number  of  workmen  employed,  and  the 
work  was  neat  and  various — a  great  contrast  to 
the  solitary  state  and  rough  work  of  his  foi-mer 
situation.  Owing  to  his  being,  as  he  calls  himself, 
"  a  wretched  tool  at  the  trade,"  his  average  weekly 
earnings  was  not  more  than  eight  shillings.  He 
had  great  need,  therefore,  not  only  to  exercise 
diligence  in  his  calling,  but  the  most  rigid  econ- 
omy. He  used  in  after-years  to  say,  that  Liskeard 
was  not  the  only  place  where  he  had  tied  his 
aj^ron-string  tighter  for  a  dinner. 

He  remained  in  this  situation  about  a  year.  His 
shopmates  regretted  his  leaving.  One  of  them 
said  afterward;  "I  very  well  remember  that  in 


Samuel  Drew's  Perilous  Adventure  with  the  Smu^g] 


ers. 
Page  29. 


SAMUEL   DKEW.  29 

our  disputes,  those  who  could  get  Sam  Drew  on 
their  side  always  made  sure  of  victory ;  and  he 
had  so  much  good  humor  and  drollery  that  we  all 
liked  him,  and  were  very  sorry  when  he  went 
away." 

The  reason  of  his  removal  was  owing  to  one  of 
his  smuggling  adventures,  which  nearly  terminated 
fatally.  "  Notice  was  given  throughout  Craft- 
hole,  one  evening  about  the  month  of  December, 
1784,  that  a  vessel  laden  with  contraband  goods 
was  on  the  coast,  and  would  be  ready  that  night  to 
discharge  her  cargo.  At  nightfall  Samuel,  with 
others,  made  toward  the  port.  One  party  re- 
mained on  the  rocks,  to  make  signals  and  dispose 
of  the  goods  when  landed ;  the  other,  of  which  he 
was  one,  manned  the  boats.  The  night  was  in- 
tensely dark,  and  but  little  progress  had  been  made 
in  discharging  the  vessel's  cargo,  when  the  wind 
rose,  with  a  heavy  sea.  To  prevent  their  vessel 
being  diiven  on  the  rocks,  the  seamen  found  it 
necessary  to  stand  off  from  the  port,  thus  increas- 
ing the  hazard  of  the  boatmen.  Unfavorable  as 
these  circumstances  were,  all  seemed  resolved  to 
persevere ;  and  several  trips  were  made  between 
the  vessel  and  the  shore.  The  wind  continuing  to 
increase,  one  of  the  men  belonging  to  the  boat  in 
which  Samuel  sat  had  his  hat  blown  off,  and  in 
striving  to  recover  it,  upset  the  boat.  Three  of 
the  men  were  immediately  drowned :  Samuel  and 
two  or  three  others  clung  to  the  boat  for  a  consid- 
erable  time  J    but,  finding   that  it   was   drifting 


30  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

from  the  port,  they  were  obliged  to  abandon  it, 
and  sustain  themselves  by  swimming.  They  were 
now  about  two  miles  from  the  shore,  and  the  dark- 
ness prevented  them  from  ascertaining  its  direction. 
Samuel  had  given  himself  up  as  lost,  when  he  laid 
hold  of  a  mass  of  seaweed,  which  afforded  him  a 
temporary  support.  At  length  he  approached 
some  rocks  near  the  shore,  upon  which  he  and  two 
of  the  men — the  only  survivors  of  seven — suc- 
ceeded in  getting;  but  they  were  so  benumbed 
with  cold,  and  so  much  exhausted  with  their  ex- 
ertion and  swimming,  that  it  was  with  the  utmost 
difficulty  they  could  maintain  their  position  against 
the  force  of  the  sea,  which  sometimes  broke  over 
them.  Their  perilous  situation  was  not  unper- 
ceived  by  their  companions ;  yet  their  calls  for 
help,  if  heard,  were  for  a  long  time  disregarded. 
When  the  vessel  had  delivered  her  cargo,  and  put 
to  sea,  a  boat  was  despatched  to  take  them  off; 
and  now,  finding  in  what  condition  Samuel  and 
his  wrecked  companions  were,  after  having  been 
three  hours  in  the  water,  and  half  of  that  time 
swimming  about,  the  others  endeavored  to  com- 
pensate, by  a  show  of  kindness,  for  their  previous 
inhumanity.  Life  being  nearly  extinct,  the  suf- 
ferers were  carried  to  a  neighboring  farm-house, 
and  the  inmates  compelled  by  threats  to  admit 
them.  A  fire  was  kindled  on  the  hearth,  and  fresh 
faggots  piled  on  it,  while  the  half-drowned  men, 
who  were  placed  in  a  recess  of  the  chimney,  un- 
able to  relieve  themselves,  were  compelled  to  en- 


SAMUEL   DKEW.  31 

dure  the  excessive  heat  which  their  ignorant  com- 
panions thought  necessary  to  restore  animation. 
One  of  the  party,  supposing,  too,  that  fire  within 
would  not  be  less  efficacious  than  fire  without, 
and  believing  brandy  to  be  a  universal  remedy, 
brought  a  keg  of  it  from  the  cargo  landed,  and, 
with  the  characteristic  recklessness  of  a  sailor  and 
a  smuggler,  knocked  in  the  head  with  a  hatchet, 
and  presented  them  with  a  bowlful.  "  Whether," 
said  Mr.  Drew,  subsequently,  "  we  drank  of  it  or 
not,  I  do  not  know :  certainly  not  to  the  extent 
recommended,  or  I  should  not  now  be  alive  to  tell 
the  tale.  My  first  sensation  was  that  of  extreme 
cold.  Although  half-roasted,  it  was  a  long  while 
before  I  felt  the  fire,  that  burnt  my  legs,  and  oc- 
casioned wounds,  the  marks  of  which  I  shall  carry 
to  my  grave.  After  leaving  the  farm-house,  I  had 
to  walk  about  two  miles,  through  deep  snow,  to 
my  lodgings.  When  I  think  of  the  complicated 
perils  of  that  night,  I  am  astonished  I  ever  sur- 
vived them." 

When  he  heard  of  the  adventure,  his  father  ex- 
claimed :  "  Alas !  what  will  be  the  end  of  my  poor 
unhappy  boy  ?"  In  order  to  secure  him  against 
any  future  like  temptation,  he  procured  him  em- 
ployment with  a  saddler  in  St.  Austell,  who  was 
commencing  the  shoemaking  business.  He  went 
to  this  new  situation  in  the  January  of  1785,  be- 
ing then  in  his  twentieth  year.  At  this  period  he 
says :  "  I  was  scarcely  able  to  read,  and  almost  to- 
tally unable  to  write.      Literature  was  a  term  to 


32  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

which  I  could  annex  no  idea.  Grammar  I  knew 
not  the  meaning  of.  I  was  expert  at  follies,  acute 
in  trifles,  and  ingenious  about  nonsense.  My  mas- 
ter was  by  trade  a  saddler,  had  acquired  some 
knowledge  of  bookbinding,  and  hired  me  to  carry 
on  the  shoemaking  for  him.  He  was  one  of  those 
men  who  will  live  anywhere,  but  will  get  rich  no- 
where. His  shop  was  frequented  by  persons  of  a 
more  respectable  class  than  those  with  whom  I 
had  previously  associated,  and  various  topics  be- 
came alternately  the  subjects  of  conversation.  I 
listened  with  all  that  attention  which  my  labors 
and  good  manners  would  permit,  and  obtained 
among  them  some  little  knowledge.  Sometimes, 
when  disputes  ran  high,  I  was  appealed  to ;  this 
acted  as  a  stimulus.  I  examined  dictionaries, 
picked  up  many  words,  and,  from  an  attachment 
which  I  felt  to  books,  which  were  occasionally 
brought  to  the  shop  to  be  bound,  I  began  to  have 
some  view  of  the  various  theories  with  which  they 
abounded.  The  more  I  read  the  more  I  felt  my 
own  ignorance — the  more  invincible  became  my 
energy  to  surmount  it.  Every  leisure  moment 
was  now  employed  in  reading  one  thing  or  other. 
Having  to  support  myself  by  manual  labor,  my 
time  for  reading  was  but  little,  and  to  overcome  this 
disadvantage,  my  usual  method  was  to  place  a 
book  before  me  while  at  meat,  and  at  every  repast 
I  read  five  or  six  pages.  The  custom  has  not  for- 
saken me  at  the  present  moment." 

He  continues :  "After  having  worked  with  this 


SAMUEL   DKEW.  33 

master  several  months,  a  neighboring  gentleman 
brought  Locke's  'Essay  on  the  Understanding,' 
to  be  bound ;  I  had'  never  seen  or  heard  of  this 
work  before.  I  took  an  occasion  to  look  into  it, 
and  I  thought  his  mode  of  reasoning  very  pleas- 
ing, and  his  arguments  exceedingly  strong.  I 
watched  all  opportunities  of  reading  for  myself 
and  would  willingly  have  labored  a  fortnight  to 
have  the  books.  I  had  then  no  conception  they 
could  be  obtained  for  money.  They  were,  how- 
ever, soon  carried  away,  and  with  them  all  my 
future  improvement  by  their  means.  The  close 
and  decisive  manner  of  Mr.  Locke's  reasoning 
made  on  my  mind  an  impression  too  deep  to  be 
easily  effaced ;  and  though  I  did  not  see  his  essay 
again  for  many  years,  yet  the  early  impression  was 
not  forgotten,  and  it  is  from  this  accidental  cir- 
cumstance that  I  received  my  first  bias  for  abstruse 
subjects. 

"  Locke's  essay  set  all  my  soul  to  think,  to  fear, 
and  to  reason  from  all  without  and  from  all  within. 
It  gave  the  first  metaphysical  turn  to  my  mind ;  and 
I  cultivated  the  little  knowledge  of  writing  which 
I  had  acquired,  in  order  to  put  down  my  reflec- 
tions. It  awakened  me  from  my  stupor,  and  in- 
duced me  to  form  a  resolution  to  abandon  the 
groveling  views  which  I  had  been  accustomed  to 
entertain.  In  my  new  situation  I  found  myself 
surrounded  with  books  of  various  descriptions,  and 
felt  my  taste  for  the  acquirement  of  information 
return  with  renewed  vigor,  and  increase  in  propor- 
3 


84  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

tion  to  tlie  means  of  indulgence,  which  were  now 
placed  fully  within  my  reach.  But  here  some  new 
difficulties  occurred,  with  which  I  found  it  painful 
to  grapple.  My  knowledge  of  the  import  of  words 
was  as  contracted  as  my  ideas  were  scanty :  so 
that  I  found  it  necessary  to  keep  a  dictionary  con- 
tinually by  my  side  whilst  I  was  reading,  to  which 
I  was  compelled  constantly  to  refer.  This  was  a 
tedious  process.  But  in  a  little  time  the  difficulty 
wore  away,  and  my  horizon  of  knowledge  became 
enlarged." 

What  were  the  books  that  Drew  read  at  this 
time  little  is  known.  'No  doubt,  Hke  other  readers, 
he  read  pretty  much  all  that  came  in  his  way. 
The  first  book,  however,  which  he  owned  was  the 
"  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  by  that  glorious  dreamer — 
John  Bunyan.  Its  perusal  afforded  him,  as  it  has 
afforded  tens  of  thousands,  constant  and  increasing 
delight. 

About  this  time  Samuel  commenced  business 
on  his  own  account.  He  had  only  fourteen  shil- 
lings of  his  own  ;  a  friend,  however,  who  had 
urged  him  to  commence,  said,  "  I'll  lend  you  five 
pounds  upon  the  security  of  your  good  character, 
and  more  if  that  is  not  enough  ;  and  I'll  promise 
not  to  demand  it  till  you  can  conveniently  pay 
me."  Samuel,  on  taking  this  important  step,  de- 
termined to  adopt  Dr.  Franklin's  maxims  in  his 
"  Way  to  Wealth."  He  worked  eighteen  hours 
out  of  the  twenty-four,  and  sometimes  longer ;  his 
friends  found  him  plenty  of  work,  but  imtil  the 


SAMUEL   DKEW.  35 

bills  could  be  sent  to  his  customers,  he  had  no 
means  to  employ  a  journeyman.  At  the  end  of  the 
year  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  know  that  he  stood 
clear,  the  five  pounds  repaid,  and  a  tolerable  stock 
of  leather  on  hand.  Industry  and  economy  had 
removed  the  necessity  of  going  to  bed  supperless 
to  avoid  rising  in  debt ;  in  addition  to  which,  he 
was  now  enabled  to  gratify  his  desire  for  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge.  The  assistance  which 
he  was  able  to  obtain  in  his  business  enabled  him 
to  devote  to  study  the  ordinary  leisure  of  a  com- 
mon workman  ;  this  was  all  he  desired.  He  says : 
''  In  this  situation,  I  felt  an  internal  vigor  prompt- 
ing me  to  exertion,  but  I  was  unable  to  determine 
what  direction  I  should  take.  The  sciences  lay 
before  me.  I  discovered  a  charm  in  each,  but  was 
unable  to  embrace  them  all,  and  hesitated  in 
making  a  selection.     I  had  learned  that, 

*  One  science  only  will  one  genius  fit, 
So  vast  is  art,  so  narrow  human  wit.' 

"  At  first,  I  felt  such  an  attachment  to  astronomy, 
that  I  resolved  to  confine  my  view^s  to  the  study 
of  that  science  ;  but  I  soon  found  myself  too  de- 
fective in  arithmetic  to  make  any  proficiency. 
Modem  history  was  my  next  object ;  but  I  quick- 
ly discovered  that  more  books  and  time  were  ne- 
cessary than  I  could  either  purchase  or  spare,  and 
on  this  account  history  was  abandoned.  In  the 
region  of  metaphysics  I  saw  neither  of  the  above 
impediments.     It  appeared  to  be  a  thorny  path ; 


36  FAMOTJS   BOYS. 

but  I  determined,  nevertheless,  to  enter,  and  ac- 
cordingly began  to  tread  it."  On  being  asked, 
subsequently,  if  he  had  not  studied  astronomy,  he 
said :  "  I  once  had  a  very  great  desire  for  it,  for  I 
thought  it  suitable  to  the  genius  of  my  mind,  and 
I  think  so  still :  but  then, 

*  Chill  penury  repress'd  the  noble  rage, 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul.' 

Dangers  and  difficulties  I  did  not  fear,  while  I 
could  bring  the  powers  of  my  mind  to  bear  upon 
them,  and  force  myself  a  passage.  To  metaphysics 
I  then  applied  myself,  and  became  what  the  world 
and  my  good  friend  Dr.  Clarke  call  a  Metaphysi- 
cian." 

Besides  this  study,  he  had  contracted  a  love  for 
the  discussion  of  the  absorbing  politics  of  the  day. 
The  American  war  was  at  that  time  occupying  a 
large  part  of  public  attention.  Drew  entered  so 
deeply  in  the  discussion  that  he  could  not  have 
been  more  interested  if  his  livelihood  had  depend- 
ed upon  the  issue.  The  neighbors  crowded  into 
his  shop,  and  he  went  into  his  neighbors'  with  no 
other  intention  than  to  discuss  the  news.  To 
make  up  for  this  loss  of  time,  he  had  frequently 
to  work  until  midnight.  One  night,  when  he  was 
so  engaged,  some  youngster  shouted  through  the 
keyhole  of  the  door,  "  Shoemaker !  shoemaker  ! 
work  by  night,  and  run  about  by  day !"  "  Had  a 
pistol,"  said  Drew,  "  been  fired  off  at  my  ear,  I 
could  not  have  been  more  dismayed  or  confounded. 


SAMUEL   DKEW.  37 

I  dropped  my  work,  saying  to  myself,  '  True,  true ! 
but  you  shall  never  have  that  to  say  of  me  again.' 
I  have  never  forgotten  it ;  and  while  I  recollect 
any  thing,  I  never  shall.  To  me  it  was  as  the 
voice  of  God,  and  it  has  been  a  word  in  season 
throughout  my  life.  I  learned  from  it  not  to  leave 
till  to-morrow  the  work  of  to-day,  or  to  idle  when 
I  ought  to  be  working.  From  that  time  I  turned 
over  a  new  leaf.  I  ceased  to  venture  on  the  rest- 
less sea  of  politics,  or  trouble  myself  about  matters 
which  did  not  concern  me." 

"  During  several  years,"  he  further  wrote,  "  all 
my  leisure-hours  were  devoted  to  reading  or  scrib- 
bling any  thing  which  happened  to  pass  my  mind ; 
but  I  do  not  recollect  that  it  ever  interrupted  my 
business,  though  it  frequently  broke  in  upon  my 
rest.  On  my  labor  depended  my  livelihood — 
literary  pursuits  were  only  my  amusement.  Com- 
mon prudence  had  taught  me  the  lesson  which 
Marmontel  has  so  happily  expressed :  *  Secure  to 
yourself  a  livelihood  independent  of  literary  suc- 
cess, and  put  into  the  lottery  only  the  overplus  of 
time.  Woe  to  him  who  depends  wholly  on  his 
pen!  Nothing  is  more  casual.  The  man  who 
makes  shoes  is  sure  of  his  wages — the  man  who 
writes  a  book  is  never  sur^  of  any  thing.'  " 

The  books  he  read  at  this  time  were  Milton, 
Young,  and  Cowper ;  Pope's  Ethical  Epistles  he 
frequently  perused,  and  Goldsmith's  works  he 
highly  valued,  having  committed  to  memory  the 
whole  of  the  "  Deserted  Village."   The  knowledge 


38  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

he  thus  received  he  would  frequently  turn  OA^er 
with  his  own  Avorkmen,  rendering  that  plain  and 
palpable  which  was  difficult  and  abstruse.  In 
April,  1791,  he  married  the  daughter  of  Jacob 
Halls,  of  St.  Austell,  on  which  occasion  it  is  re- 
corded that  his  wedding-coat  was  "  as  good  as 
new,  of  a  plum  color,  with  bright  buttons,  very 
little  worn,  and  quite  a  bargain."  He  was  now 
esteemed  as  a  respectable  tradesman,  and  had  ex- 
ercised his  ability  as  a  local  preacher  among  the 
Wesleyans,  amongst  whom  he  had  become  very 
popular. 

His  first  literary  effort  was  a  poetical  epistle  to 
his  sister,  which  Avas  followed  by  several  other 
metrical  compositions.  His  manner  of  study  he 
has  himself  related :  "  During  my  literary  pursuits 
I  regularly  and  constantly  attended  my  business, 
and  do  not  recollect  that  one  customer  was  ever 
disappointed  by  me  through  these  means.  My 
mode  of  Av*riting  and  study  may  haA^e  in  them,  per- 
haps, something  peculiar.  Immersed  in  the  com- 
mon concerns  of  life,  I  endeavored  to  lift  my 
thoughts  to  objects  more  sublime  than  those  with 
Avhich  I  am  surrounded,  and,  Avhile  attending  to 
my  trade,  I  sometimes  catch  the  fibres  of  an  argu- 
ment, which  I  endeavor  to  note,  and  keep  a  pen 
and  ink  by  me  for  that  purpose.  In  this  state, 
what  I  can  collect  through  the  day  remains  on  any 
paper  which  I  have  at  hand,  till  the  business  of  the 
day  is  despatched,  and  my  shop  shut,  when,  in  the 
midst  of  my  family,  I  endeavor  to  analyse  such 


SAMUEL  DREW.  39 

thoughts  as  had  crossed  my  mind  during  the  day. 
I  have  no  study — I  have  no  retirement — I  write 
amidst  the  cries  and  cradles  of  my  children,  and 
frequently,  when  I  review  what  I  have  written, 
endeavor  to  cultivate  the  '  art  to  blot.'  Such  are 
the  methods  which  I  have  pursued,  and  such  the 
disadvantages  under  which  I  write."  He  usually 
sat  on  a  low  nursing  chair  by  the  kitchen  fire,  with 
the  bellows  on  his  knees  for  a  desk  I 

Samuel  was  first  induced  to  become  an  author  in 
consequence  of  a  friend,  a  young  surgeon,  imbibing 
the  principles  of  Voltaire,  Rousseau,  Gibbon,  and 
Hume.  With  this  gentleman  Samuel  had  debates 
from  time  to  time,  the  groundwork  being  the 
newly  published  "Age  of  Reason,"  by  Paine. 
These  discussions  ultimately  resulted  in  the  gentle- 
man's renouncing  his  infidel  opinions,  and  his  ac- 
ceptance of  the  truth  of  revelation.  Drew  having 
committed  the  arguments  to  paper,  as  the  debate 
proceeded,  at  the  conclusion  submitted  the  M  S. 
to  two  competent  friends,  who  advised  their  im- 
mediate publication,  which  was  done.  The  publi- 
cation of  this  pamphlet  secured  him  many  warmly 
attached  friends.  His  next  venture  was  an  elegiac 
poem,  which,  owing  to  local  circumstance,  became 
very  popular.  But  poetry  was  certainly  not 
Samuel's  forte.  At  this  time  the  Rev.  Richard 
Polwhele,  Vicar  of  Manaccan,  Cornwall,  had  issued 
a  little  work :  "  Anecdotes  of  Methodism,"  which 
was  a  very  severe  and  unwarranted  attack  upon 
that  body  of  Christians.      Samuel  answered  the 


40  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

book.  The  result  was  one  of  the  severest  and 
justly  merited  castigations  that  a  religious  libeller 
ever  received.  Polwhele  was  not  only  silenced, 
but  he  afterward  became  a  warm  friend  and  ad- 
mirer of  Drew.  When  Samuel  published  his  great 
work,  "  Essay  on  the  Soul,"  which  was  the  next 
printed  after  the  "  Reply,"  Polwhele  reviewed  the 
work  in  the  "  Anti-jacobin  Review."  This  sponta- 
neous act  redounded  to  his  credit  as  a  scholar  and 
a  Christian.  Drew,  by  his  publications,  had  now 
established  himself  as  an  author  of  some  repute. 
A  visit  to  "  the  metaphysical  shoemaker "  was 
deemed  an  essential  by  all  strangers.  Drew  was 
not  much  puffed  up  by  this  public  notice.  He  said : 
"These  gentlemen  certainly  honor  me  by  their 
yisits ;  but  I  do  not  forget  that  many  of  them 
merely  wish  to  say,  that  they  have  seen  the  cobbler 
who  wrote  a  book." 

Drew  was  next  engaged  upon  his  largest  work 
— his  essay  on  the  "  Identity  and  Resurrection  of 
the  Human  Body."  This  occupied  a  considerable 
amount  of  time,  was  written  and  rewritten,  and 
was,  before  publication,  submitted  to  the  criticism 
and  examination  of  the  members  of  the  London 
Philological  Society.  Eight  hundred  copies  were 
at  once  subscribed  for,  the  author  receiving  five 
hundred  copies  for  the  copyright.  When  it  was 
published  only  one  or  two  reviews  appeared. 
This,  as  it  was  subsequently  found,  was  not  owing 
to  any  slight  on  the  part  of  the  editors  of  the 
serials  of  the  time,  but  owing  to  the  absence  of 


SAMUEL   DREW.  41 

persons  capable  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  work. 
One  London  bookseller  actually  wrote  to  Drew  re- 
questing him  to  review  his  own  work.  To  this  re- 
quest he  made  answer:  "Such  things  may  be 
among  the  tricks  of  trade,  but  never  will  I  soil 
my  fingers  by  meddling  with  them.  My  work  shall 
honestly  meet  its  fate.  If  it  be  praised,  I  shall 
doubtless  be  gratified — if  censured,  instructed; 
if  it  drop  still  born  from  the  press,  I  will  endeavor 
to  be  contented."  It  was  soon  after  the  publica- 
tion of  this  work  that  Mr.  Drew  was  elected  a 
member  of  the  Manchester  Philological  Society. 
The  next  year  witnessed  Drew  withdrawing  from 
the  shoemaking  with  the  intention  of  devoting 
himself  exclusively  to  literature.  His  first  work 
was  in  connection  with  Dr.  Coke,  whom  he  as- 
sisted in  finishing  his  "  Commentary  on  the  Bible,*' 
his  "History  of  the  West  Indies,"  and  other 
works.  In  1806  Drew  commenced  to  write  for 
the  "Eclectic  Review,"  on  the  recommendation 
of  Dr.  Clarke.  In  1812,  Mr.  Drew  competed  for 
the  Burnet  prize  on  the  "Being  and  Attributes 
of  the  Deity."  He  was  not  successful,  however. 
The  first  prize  was  awarded  to  Dr.  Brown,  then 
Principal  of  Marischal  College ;  and  the  second 
prize  to  Dr.  Sumner,  afterward  Bishop  of  Chester. 
Mr.  Drew's  essay  was  afterward  published  in 
two  octavo  volumes,  and  an  edition  of  a  thousand 
copies  sold. 

It  will  now  only  be  needful,  in  this  rapid  sketch  of 
this  wonderful  self-taught  man,  to  merely  indicate 


4:2  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

his  subsequent  labors.  First,  then,  he  was  en- 
gaged to  write  a  "History  of  Cornwall,"  and 
then  a  "Life  of  Dr.  Coke,"  at  that  divine's  spe- 
cial request;  then  he  assumed  the  entire  editor- 
fillip  of  the  "Imperial  Magazine,"  published  by 
Mr.  Fisher  in  Liverpool,  where  Mr.  Drew  then  re- 
sided. Li  1821,  the  degree  of  A.  M.  was  conferred 
upon  Mr.  Drew  by  Marischal  College,  Aberdeen. 
This  mark  of  favor  and  appreciation  of  ability  was 
alike  honorable  to  the  college  and  Mr.  Drew.  In 
1831,  the  council  of  the  London  L^niversity  solicited 
him  to  allow  himself  to  be  nominated  as  Professor 
of  Moral  Philosophy  in  that  institution.  He  de- 
clined, on  the  ground  of  his  desire  to  settle  down 
in  his  own  native  county  for  the  remainder  of  his 
days.  His  incessant  literary  employment  had  ma- 
terially weakened  a  constitution  which  must  at 
one  time  have  been  as  strong  as  iron.  During 
the  summer  of  1831,  Mr.  Drew  visited  his  native 
place  ;  he  had  fixed  this  as  the  time  to  retire  from 
his  editorial  labors,  but  for  the  benefit  of  his  chil- 
dren resolved  to  continue  for  two  years  more — a 
resolve  which  no  doubt  helped  to  hasten  his  final 
departure.  After  endeavoring  to  fulfil  faithfully 
his  engagements  for  a  little  while  longer,  illness 
overtook  him.  He  died,  as  he  desired,  in  his  native 
county,  on  the  29th  of  March,  1833. 

So  ended  the  life  of  one  of  England's  greatest 
worthies !  ^o,  not  ended  ;  his  life  is  still  stored 
up  in  the  books  he  wrote,  which  are  as  imperisha- 
ble as  his  name.    He  has  left  a  torch,  in  the  bright 


SAMUEL   DREW.  43 

example  of  his  life,  which  will  cheer  many  a  des- 
ponding student  in  the  monotony  of  his  daily 
tasks ;  and  when  the  humble  Christian  is  assailed 
by  the  sophistries  of  the  infidel  and  the  sceptic,  he 
will  find  his  best  defence  in  the  unanswered  argu- 
ments of  the  giant  shoemaker.  Cornwall  has 
reason  to  be  proud  of  such  a  son,  and  England, 
that  she  was  privileged  to  give  birth  to  such  a 
man. 


EENJAMEsT  FEANKLOT. 

The  life  of  Franklin  is  one  of  the  most  extraor- 
dinary instances  on  record  of  what  can  be  accom- 
plished by  study,  resolution,  and  a  conscientious 
nurture  of  the  faculties.  He  was  born  in  an  hum- 
ble sphere  ;  he  began  his  career  as  an  apprentice ; 
he  mastered  almost  all  the  branches  of  knowledge, 
aided  alone  by  his  own  perseverance  and  deter- 
mination ;  and  he  rose  to  become  the  arbiter  of 
nations,  the  companion  of  sovereigns ;  he  ascended 
step  by  step  from  the  humble  printer's  apprentice 
to  a  position  the  most  exalted  of  any  in  the  w^orld. 
As  a  philosopher  his  fame  spread  to  the  uttermost 
ends  of  the  earth ;  as  a  diplomat  he  received  the 
hearing  of  the  most  polished  court  in  Europe,  and 
successfully  conducted  the  affairs  of  his  country 
through  perplexities  and  difficulties  of  the  most 
trying  kind ;  and  as  a  patriot  he  became  the  loved 
and  admired  of  all  virtuous  and  honorable  men 
everywhere. 

Benjamin  Franklin  was  born  in  Boston  on  the 
IVth  of  January,  1706.  His  father  was  a  tallow- 
chandler.  Benjamin  was  the  youngest  of  seventeen 
children ;  a  surprisingly  quick  and  precocious  child, 


BENJAMIN   FKANKLIN.  45 

evincing  at  a  very  early  day  an  avidity  for  books. 
He   was   first   designed  for  the   church,  but  his 
father's  means  being  inadequate  for  his  education, 
at  ten  years  of  age  he  was  taken  from  school,  and 
j)laced  in  the  establishment  of  his  father.     But 
cutting  wicks   for  candles,  filling   moulds,  going 
errands,  and  similar  drudgery,  disgusted  the  young 
Benjamin ;  and  his  father,  yielding  to  his  wishes, 
Apprenticed  him  to  a  cutler.     Here  he  remained 
only  a  short  time,  for  the  required  fee  being  too 
much  for  the   elder  Franklin's  purse,  he  was  re- 
moved, and   indentured   to  his   brother  James,  a 
printer.    This  was  probably  fortunate  for  Benj  amin, 
as  it  encouraged  his  taste  for  reading,  and  ofi*ered 
him  opportunities  for  exercising  it.     He  began  at 
once,  indeed,  by  borrowing  books  from  booksellers, 
apprentices,  and  frequently,  in  order  to  return  the 
borrowed  volume  by  morning,  he  would  sit  up  all 
night  to  finish  it.     In  fact,  his  thirst  for  books  was 
imquenchable.     He  devoured  whatever  came  in  his 
way,  and,  even  at  that  early  period,  was  inspired 
with  a  desire  to  excel  in  literary  composition.     As 
rejnarkable  proof  of  his  fondness  for  study,  it  is 
stated  that,  meeting  with  a  book  recommending 
vegetable  diet,  its  great  cheaj^ness  determined  him 
at  once  to  adopt  it.     He  bargained  with  his  brother 
to  give  him  half  the  sum  that  his  board  had  hither- 
to cost  to  support  him,  and  the  amount  thus  saved 
was  appropriated  to  the  purchase  of  books.  Which 
one  of  the  young  readers  of  this  sketch  would  be 
willing  to  practice  a  self-denial  of  this  kind  for  such 


46  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

a  purpose  ?  But  Franklin's  whole  life  was  one  of 
self-denial;  he  denied  himself  all  luxuries  and 
many  pleasures — he  asjm-ed  to  be  famous  and  to  be 
wise  and  good,  and  to  reach  this  great  height  he 
was  willing  to  labor  hard,  and  to  give  up  most  of 
the  recreations  and  pleasures  common  to  youth. 
His  mind  was  all ;  his  body  was  but  little.  His 
mind  craved  and  thirsted  for  food,  and  to  supply  its 
demands,  he  was  ready  and  eager  even  to  starve  his 
body.  Certainly  this  was  very  wonderful  in  a  boy. 
But  nothing  but  wonderful  resolution  like  this  could 
lift  a  poor  ignorant  apprentice  boy  up  to  the  level 
of  kings — up  to  be  a  statesman,  a  philosopher,  and 
a  philanthropist. 

Benjamin's  studious  habits  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  a  merchant,  who  was  frequently  about  the 
printing-office,  and  who,  desiring  to  facilitate  his 
pursuit  of  knowledge,  gave  him  the  privilege  of 
his  library.  This  was  of  course  a  great  thing  for 
Franklin,  and  he  availed  himself  of  it  with  his 
accustomed  energy  and  industry.  About  this  time 
Franklin  made  his  first  essay  at  composition,  which 
was  poetry.  This  so  pleased  his  brother  James, 
that  he  induced  him  to  write  two  ballads,  which, 
on  being  printed,  he  sent  him  to  sell  about  the 
streets.  Imagine  Benjamin  Franklin  hawking  bal- 
lads about  the  streets !  Think  of  him  at  Paris 
the  companion  of  wits,  poets,  philosophers,  states- 
men ;  the  delight  and  admiration  of  the  court  and 
the  queen ;  think  of  him  at  London  dictating  to 
the  British  government  the  terms  of  peace  and  in- 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN.  47 

dependence  for  his  country ;  tliink  of  him  aston- 
ishing the  philosophers  and  schools  of  the  world 
with  his  ex})eriments  with  the  lightning ;  think  of 
him,  I  say,  in  these  great  scenes,  and  then  let  your 
mind  run  back  to  the  little  printer's  boy  selling 
ballads  in  the  streets  !     Is  it  not  wonderful  ? 

His  brother  published  a  newspaper  entitled 
t%e  New  England  Gourant.  This  brought  liter- 
ary men  of  Boston  to  the  printing-office,  where 
Franklin  heard  them  discussing  the  merits  of  the 
different  articles  that  appeared.  This  tempted 
him  to  try  his  own  powers,  and  having  for  a  long 
time  studied  the  best  English  models  with  the  view 
of  forming  a  correct  and  elegant  style,  he  wrote  a 
paper  in  a  disguised  hand,  and  put  it  at  night  under 
the  door.  On  being  submitted  to  the  Boston 
critics,  it  met  with  particular  approval,  and  in  their 
guesses  at  the  author,  no  one  was  mentioned  but 
men  of  some  mark  in  the  town.  Think  of  Benja- 
min's exquisite  pleasure  as  he  stood  by  his  case, 
overhearing  their  praises  of  his  composition,  and 
attributing  his  effort  to  men  of  learning  and  abili- 
ty! He  tried  his  hand  at  other  papers,  and  the 
unknown  contributions  became  the  surmise  and 
talk  of  the  office.  Benjamin  could  not  keep  in  his 
secret,  and  at  last  let  it  out.  His  brother,  how- 
ever, instead  of  being  delighted  at  this  evidence 
of  talent,  received  the  intelligence  with  jealous  dis- 
trust. A  good  deal  of  unhappiness  resulted,  and  the 
two  brothers  ceased  to  be  friends.  The  elder  op- 
pressed Benjamin,  and  often  struck  him,  until,  at 


4:8  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

last,  young  Franklin's  situation  becoming  intoler- 
able, he  abruptly  left  Boston,  and  started  secretly 
for  Xew  York.  In  that  city  he  was  unable  to  get 
employment,  and  he  proceeded  on  to  Philadelphia, 
where  he  arrived  hungry,  sorefooted,  and  travel- 
stained.  His  first  visit  was  to  the  baker's,  where 
he  purchased  three  rolls,  one  of  which  he  placed 
under  each  arm,  eating  the  other  through  the 
principal  streets.  A  draught  of  water  from  the 
river  completed  his  frugal  meal.  Observing  many 
well-dressed  people  all  going  in  the  same  direction, 
he  joined  them,  and  was  led  into  a  Quaker  meet- 
ing-house. He  sat  down,  and  soon  feeling  drowsy, 
fell  asleep,  and  continued  so  until  the  meeting 
breaking  up,  some  one  aroused  him. 

He  now  sought  for  employment,  and  after  some 
delays  and  difficulties,  was  employed  by  a  printer 
named  Keimer,  who  sent  him  to  lodge  at  the  house 
of  a  Mr.  Read.  This  gentleman's  daughter  he 
fell  in  love  with,  and  afterward  married.  Acci- 
dentally a  letter  written  by  him  to  a  brother-in-law, 
defending  and  explaining  his  conduct  in  leaving 
Boston,  fell  into  the  hands  of  Sir  William  Keith, 
governor  of  the  province,  who  was  so  much  struck 
with  its  force  and  clearness,  that  he  introduced 
himself  to  Franklin,  and  promised,  as  the  printers 
of  Philadelphia  were  very  poor  ones,  to  set  him 
up  there.  Thus  incited,  he  made  a  voyage  to 
Boston,  with  a  letter  from  the  governor  to  his 
father,  recommending  the  undertaking;  but  the 
old   chandler   did  not   approve    of  the  plan — he 


BENJA^riN    FRANKLIN.  49 

feared  that  the  lad  was  too  young  and  inex- 
perienced, and  he,  therefore,  refused  to  advance 
any  capital  for  the  purpose.  But  the  governor  was 
not  discouraged,  and,  upon  Benjamin's  return  to 
Philadelphia,  still  insisted  on  his  plan,  and  even 
promised  him  money  to  procure  all  necessary  mate- 
rials from  England.  It  was  at  last  arranged  that 
Franklin  should  proceed  to  England  for  that  pur- 
pose, and  the  governor  gave  him  letters  of  credit 
to  the  amount  of  a  hundred  pounds. 

On  arriving  in  England,  Benjamin  discovered  to 
his  horror  and  dismay  that  the  letters  of  credit 
were  utterly  worthless.  Thus  again  did  the  youth 
find  himself  penniless  in  a  strange  city,  with  no 
dependence  but  his  trade  and  his  habits  of  in- 
dustry. He  began  his  search  for  work  at  once, 
and  was  employed  by  a  printer  in  Bartholomew 
Close,  in  whose  employ  he  remained  for  a  year. 
At  the  end  of  that  period,  he  was  offered  a  clerk- 
ship in  a  store  in  Philadelphia,  and,  being  anxious 
to  return  to  his  native  country,  he  accepted  the 
offer  with  alacrity.  Six  months  after  his  return 
his  employer  died,  the  business  was  broken  up, 
and  he  returned  to  his  old  trade  of  printing.  He 
Boon  succeeded  in  establishing  a  business,  and 
undertook  the  management  of  a  newspaper. 

He  received  the  appointment  of  printer  to  the 
House  of  Assembly,  and,  in  1736,  was  elected  its 
clerk.  Soon  after  this  he  was  chosen  one  of  the 
Common  Council,  and  at  a  later  period  to  the  hon- 
orary position  of  Alderman,  and  also  Representa- 
4 


50  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

I. 

tiv€  in  the  Assembly.  Thus  we  see  his  greatness 
beginning  to  dawn.  He  is  no  longer  selling  songs, 
denying  himself  food  to  obtain  books,  laboring 
and  studying  in  obscurity  and  poverty ;  he  is  pros- 
perous, his  abilities  are  noted,  his  studious  hours 
begin  to  bear  fruit ;  he  is  on  that  upward  career 
wherein  he  becomes  one  of  the  giants  of  the  age ; 
a  peer  with  the  greatest ;  a  monument  which  is  to 
loom  up  to  the  gaze  and  admiration  of  all  coming 
generations. 

It  was  in  the  year  1 746  that  Franklin's  atten- 
tion was  directed  to  those  electrical  studies  which 
led  to  the  discovery  of  the  great  theory  of  elec- 
tricity, or  rather  of  the  identity  of  this  fluid  with 
lightning.  He  met  at  Boston  one  Dr.  Spence,  a 
Scottish  lecturer  who  was  exhibiting  some  electri- 
cal apparatus  and  performing  various  curious  experi- 
ments. These  experiments  were  clumsy,  but  they 
excited  the  curiosity  of  Franklin,  who  began  to 
inquire  into  the  nature  and  causes  of  the  pheno- 
mena he  had  witnessed.  After  a  great  many  ex- 
periments he  developed  his  theory  of  electricity, 
and  a  brilliant  discovery  rewarded  the  philosopher 
for  his  hours  of  patient  thought  and  investigation. 
It  had  been  surmised  for  a  long  time  that  electri- 
city and  lightning  were  identical,  but  the  fact  had 
never  been  demonstrated.  Convinced  that  they 
were  the  same  fluid,  he  set  about  to  prove  it  to 
the  satisfaction  of  the  most  sceptical.  At  first  he 
thought  he  might  make  some  experiments  from  a 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN.  51 

high  steeple,  or  spire,  but  there  was  no  such  thing 
in  the  city.  He  then  sought  for  other  projections, 
but  none  could  be  discovered  of  sufficient  height. 
One  day  while  walking  and  meditating  upon  the 
theme,  he  observed  a  little  boy  with  great  glee 
watching  the  movements  of  his  kite  far  up  in  the 
sky.  In  an  instant  the  idea  struck  him  that  here 
was  a  method  of  reaching  the  clouds.  He  went 
home  and  constructed  a  kite  of  silk,  and  awaited 
the  next  thunderstorm.  This  was  in  June  1752. 
At  the  first  indications  of  a  storm  he  went  into 
the  fields  with  his  kite  and  raised  it.  To  the  lower 
end  of  the  string  he  fastened  a  key,  and  insulated 
it  by  attaching  it  to  a  post  with  silk  threads.  For 
some  time  he  could  detect  no  effect ;  he  was  be 
ginning  to  despair,  when  to  his  joy  he  observed 
some  loose  ends  of  the  hempen  strings  rise  and 
stand  erect,  indicating  that  they  were  under  the 
influence  of  the  electric  fluid.  He  offered  his 
knuckles  to  the  key,  and  to  his  almost  speechless 
delight  drew  forth  the  well-known  electric  spark — 
proving  at  once  the  identity  of  lightning  with 
electricity.  As  the  rain  increased  and  the  string 
became  a  better  conductor,  the  key  gave  out 
copious  streams  of  electricity.  By  this  simple  ex- 
periment Franklin  solved  the  great  philosophical 
problem  of  the  day,  although  the  discovery  was 
at  first  ridiculed  and  denounced  as  absurd  by 
many.  His  paper  on  the  subject  when  read  before 
the  English  Royal  Society  was  received  with  deri- 


52  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

sion  and  laughter ;  but  the  subject  soon  attracting 
the  attention  of  the  philosophers  of  the  continent, 
the  members  of  the  Royal  Society  were  induced 
to  reconsider  the  matter,  and  having  verified  the 
discovery  by  experiments  of  their  own,  made 
haste  to  make  amends,  electing  him  a  member,  and 
presenting  him  with  a  medal,  which  is  a  very 
encouraging  circumstance  to  recollect.  When  we 
know  we  are  right  it  is  best  to  take  no  heed  of  the 
world's  ridicule  and  laughter.  There  is  an  old 
adage,  you  know — "Let  those  laugh  who  win." 
In  addition  to  this  membership,  a  great  many 
honorary  degrees  were  conferred  upon  him.  His 
fame  as  a  philosopher  was  spread  through  the 
world;  but  the  time  was  now  fast  approaching 
when  his  even  greater  fame  as  a  statesman  was  to 
extend  throughout  all  the  civilized  globe. 

The  reader  is,  of  course,  acquainted  with  all  the 
great  events  of  the  Revolution ;  and  the  splendid 
parts  acted  in  them  by  Washington  and  Frank- 
lin. While  Washington  was  fighting  our  battles 
for  us  at  home,  Franklin  was  abroad  securing 
fujjds,  negotiating  treaties,  obtaining  loans,  and 
otherwise  advancing  the  cause  of  American  Inde- 
pendence. In  1783,  he  had  the  satisfaction  of 
signing  the  Treaty  of  Peace  between  the  United 
States  and  Great  Britain,  he  having  been  appointed 
a  Commissioner  for  that  purpose.  In  1785,  he  re- 
turned to  his  native  country,  where  great  honors 
awaited  him;  and  on  the  17th  of  April,  1790,  he 
died,  aged   eighty-four  years   and  three  months. 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN.  53 

Thus  full  of  years  and  honors  died  this  remarkable 
man,  the  most  striking  example,  perhaps,  on  re- 
cord of  what  energy,  virtue,  and  industry  will  ac- 
complish in  advancing  the  fortunes  of  their  pos- 
sessor. 


KOBEET  BUENS. 

Robert  Burns  was  one  of  the  greatest  poets  that 
ever  was  formed  merely  or  chiefly  by  the  discipline 
of  self-tuition ;  and  is  also  considered,  without  refer- 
ence to  his  poetical  powers,  another  striking  exam- 
ple of  what  a  man  may  do  in  educating  himself, 
and  acquiring  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  liter- 
ature while  occupying  a  very  humble  rank  in  so- 
ciety, and  even  struggling  with  the  miseries  of  the 
most  cruel  indigence. 

Burns  has  himself  given  us  a  sketch  of  his  early 
life,  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Moore.  His  father,  a  man 
of  a  decidedly  superior  mind,  and  with  even  some- 
thing of  Hterary  acquirement  beyond  his  station, 
had  led  a  life  of  hard  labor  and  poverty ;  and  at 
the  time  of  his  son  Robert's  birth,  (January  25th, 
1759,)  was  employed  as  gardener  by  a  gentleman 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  town  of  Ayr.  A  few 
years  afterward,  he  took  a  small  farm,  on  which, 
however,  his  utmost  exertions,  and  those  of  the 
members  of  his  family  who  were  able  to  give  him 
any  assistance,  seem  to  have  hardly  sufficed  to 
earn  a  subsistence  without  running  in  debt. 

"The  farm,"  says  his  son,  "proved  a  ruinous 


KOBEKT   BUKNS.  55 

bargain.  .  .  .  My  father  was  advanced  in  life 
when  he  married  :  I  was  the  eldest  of  seven  child- 
ren ;  and  he,  worn  out  by  early  hardships,  was 
unfit  for  labor.  My  ftither's  spirit  was  soon  mi- 
tated,  but  not  easily  broken. 

"  There  was  a  freedom  in  his  lease  in  two  years 
more;  and  to  weather  these  two  years,  we  re- 
trenched our  expenses.  We  lived  very  poorly.  I 
was  a  dexterous  ploughman  for  my  age ;  and  the 
next  eldest  to  me  was  a  brother,  (Gilbert)  who 
could  drive  the  plough  very  well  and  help  me  to 
thrash  the  corn.  .  .  .  This  kind  of  life — the 
cheerless  gloom  of  a  hermit ;  with  the  increasing 
moil  of  a  galley-slave,  brought  me  to  my  six- 
teenth year." 

On  the  expiration  of  this  lease,  his  father  took 
another  farm.  "  For  four  years,"  continued  Burns, 
"we  lived  comfortably  here;  but  a  difference 
commencing  between  him  and  his  landlord  as  to 
terms,  after  three  years  tossing  and  turning  in  the 
vortex  of  litigation,  my  father  was  just  saved 
from  the  horrors  of  a  jail  by  a  consumption 
which,  after  two  years'  promises,  kindly  stepped 
in  and  carried  him  away  to  where  the  wicked  cease 
from  troubling  and  tJie  weary  are  at  rest^ 

Yet  it  was  during  this  time  that  the  future  poet 
made  his  first  important  acquisitions  in  literature. 
"  I  was,  at  the  beginning  of  this  period,"  says  he, 
"  perhaps  the  most  ungainly,  awkward  boy  in  the 
parish ;  no  solitaire  was  less  acquainted  with  the 
ways   of  the  world.     What  I  knew   of  ancient 


56  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

Story  was  gathered  from  Salmon's  and  Guthrie's 
Geographical  Grammars;  and  the  ideas  I  had 
formed  of  modern  manners,  of  Hterature,  and 
criticism,  I  got  from  the  Spectator." 

He  then  goes  on  to  enumerate  the  other  works 
to  which  his  reading  extended.  The  whole  formed 
a  sufficiently  miscellaneous  collection,  although  not 
very  numerous ;  the  principal  being  Pope's  works, 
some  plays  of  Shakspeare,  Locke's  Essays  on  the 
Human  Understanding,  Stackhouse's  History  of 
the  Bible,  Allen  Ramsay's  works,  and  a  collection 
of  English  songs.  "  The  collection  of  songs,"  he 
adds,  "  was  my  vade  mecum.  I  pored  over  them 
driving  my  cart  or  walking  to  labor,  song  by  song, 
verse  by  verse,  carefully  noting  the  true,  tender, 
or  sublime,  from  affectation  and  fustian.  I  am 
convinced  I  owe  to  this  practice  much  of  my 
critic  craft,  such  as  it  is." 

He  afterward  went  for  a  few  weeks  to  a  village 
school,  where  he  obtahied  some  acquaintance  with 
the  elements  of  geometry,  and  the  practical 
sciences  of  mensuration,  surveying,  and  dialling. 
His  reading,  too,  gradually  enlarged,  as  accident 
threw  new  books  in  his  way. 

He  mentions,  in  particular,  among  those  he  met 
with,  Thomson's  and  Shenstone's  works.  "  And  I 
engaged,"  says  he,  "  several  of  my  schoolfellows 
to  keep  up  a  literary  correspondence  with  me. 
This  improved  me  in  composition.  I  had  met 
with  a  collection  of  letters  by  the  wits  of  Queen 
Anne's  reign,  and  I  pored  over  them  most  devoutly. 


ROBERT   BURNS.  57 

"I  kept  copies  of  any  of  my  own  letters  tliat 
pleased  me ;  and  a  comparison  between  them  and 
the  composition  of  most  of  my  correspondents 
flattered  my  vanity." 

In  a  letter  from  Gilbert  Burns,  which  Dr.  Car- 
rie has  published,  we  have  a  still  more  particular 
account  of  the  manner  in  which  the  fother  of  this 
humble  family  struggled,  in  all  his  difficulties,  to 
procure  education  for  his  children;  from  which, 
as  interestingly  illustrative  of  the  extent  to  which 
the  poorest  have  it  in  their  power  to  discharge  this 
most  important  parental  duty,  we  shall  here  tran- 
scribe a  few  sentences : 

"There  being  no  school  near  us,"  says  the 
writer,  "  and  our  little  services  being  useful  on  the 
fai*m,  my  father  undertook  to  teach  us  arithmetic 
in  the  winter  evenings  by  candlelight  ;  and  in 
this  way  my  two  eldest  sisters  got  all  the  educa- 
tion they  received.  *  ♦  *  My  father  was  for 
some  time  almost  the  only  companion  we  had.  He 
conversed  familiarly  on  all  subjects  with  us,  as  if 
we  had  been  men  ;  and  was  at  great  pains,  while 
we  accompanied  him  in  the  labors  of  the  farm,  to 
lead  the  conversation  to  such  subjects  as  might 
tend  to  increase  our  knowledge,  or  confirm  us  in 
virtuous  habits.  He  borrowed  '  Salmon's  Geogra- 
phical Grammar'  for  us,  and  endeavored  to  make 
us  acquainted  with  the  situation  and  history  of  the 
different  countries  in  the  world  ;  while  from  a 
book-society  in  Ayr  he  procured  for  us  the  reading 
of  '  Derham's  Physico  and  Astro  Theology,'  and 


58  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

'  Ray's  Wisdom  of  God  in  the  Creation,'  to  give 
us  some  idea  of  astronomy  and  natural  history." 

Gilbert  also  gives,  in  this  letter,  a  more  par- 
ticular account  of  his  brother's  early  readhig. 
"  Robert,"  he  proceeds,  "  read  all  these  books 
with  an  avidity  and  industry  scarcely  to  be  equal- 
ed. My  father  had  been  a  subscriber  to  '  Stack- 
house's  History  of  the  Bible' — from  this  Robert 
collected  a  competent  knowledge  of  ancient  his- 
tory ;  for  no  book  was  so  voluminous  as  to  slacken 
his  industry,  or  so  antiquated  as  to  damp  his  re- 
searches. 

"  A  brother  of  my  mother,  who  had  lived  with 
us  some  time,  and  had  learned  some  arithmetic 
by  our  winter  evening's  candle,  went  into  a  book- 
seller's shop  in  Ayr  to  purchase  the  '  Ready 
Reckoner,  or  Tradesman's  Sure  Guide,'  and  a  book 
to  teach  him  to  write  letters.  Luckily,  in  place  of 
the  '  Complete  Letter-Writer,'  he  got  by  mistake 
a  small  collection  of  letters  by  the  most  eminent 
writers,  with  a  few  sensible  directions  for  attaining 
an  easy  epistolary  style.  This  book  was  to  Robert 
of  the  greatest  consequence.  It  inspired  him  with 
a  strong  desire  to  excel  in  letter-writmg,  while  it 
furnished  him  with  models  by  some  of  the  fii-st 
writers  in  our  language." 

After  mentioning  the  manner  in  which  his  bro- 
ther obtained  a  few  of  his  other  books,  Gilbert 
goes  on  to  say  that  a  teacher  in  Ayr,  of  the  name 
of  Murdoch,  to  whom  he  was  sent  for  two  or  three 
weeks  by  his  father  to  improve  his  writing,  be- 


KOBEET   BURNS.  59 

ing  himself  engaged  at  the  time  in  learning 
French,  communicated  the  instructions  he  re- 
ceived to  his  ardent  and  persevering  pupil,  who, 
when  he  returned  home,  brought  with  him  a 
French  dictionary  and  grammar,  and  a  copy  of 
"Telemachus." 

"  In  a  Uttle  whUe,"  continues  the  writer,  *'  by 
the  assistance  of  these  books,  he  had  acquired 
such  a  knowledge  of  the  language  as  to  read  and 
understand  any  French  author  in  prose."  He 
afterward  attempted  to  learn  Latin,  but  did  not 
prosecute  the  study  so  long  as  to  make  much  pro- 
gress. 

All  this  while,  the  misfortunes  and  sufferings  of 
this  admirable  father  and  his  poor  family  continued 
to  increase  every  day. 

Gilbert's  picture  of  their  condition  is  touching  in 
the  extreme.  "  To  the  buffetings  of  misfortune," 
says  he,  "  we  could  only  oppose  hard  labor  and  the 
most  rigid  economy.  We  lived  very  sparing. 
For  several  years  butcher's  meat  was  a  stranger  in 
the  house ;  while  all  the  members  in  the  family 
exerted  themselves  to  the  utmost  of  their  strength, 
and  rather  beyond  it,  in  the  labors  of  the  farm. 

"  My  brother,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  assisted  in 
thrashing  the  crop  of  corn,  and  at  fifteen,  was  the 
principal  laborer  on  the  farm,  for  we  had  no  hired 
servant,  male  or  female. 

"The  anguish  of  mind  we  felt,  at  our  tender 
years,  under  these  straits  and  difficulties,  was  very 
great.     To  think  of  our  father  growing  old  (for  he 


60  FA^IOUS   HOYS. 

was  now  about  fifty),  broken  down  with  the  long- 
continued  fatigues  of  his  hfe,  with  a  wife  and  five 
other  children,  and  in  a  dechning  state  of  circum- 
stances, these  reflections  produced  in  my  brother's 
mind  and  mine,  sensations  of  the  deepest  distress. 
I  doubt  not  but  that  the  hard  labor  and  sorrow  of 
this  period  of  his  life  was,  in  a  great  measure,  the 
cause  of  that  depression  of  spirits  with  which 
Robert  was  often  afflicted  through  his  whole  life 
afterward.  At  this  time,  he  was  almost  constantly 
afflicted  in  the  evenings  with  a  dull  head-ache, 
which,  at  a  future  period  of  his  life,  was  exchanged 
for  a  palpitation  of  the  heart,  and  a  threatening  of 
fainting  and  suffocation  in  his  bed  in  the  night 
time." 

Murdoch,  Burns'  English  master,  although  not  a 
man  of  great  learning,  appears  to  have  been  a 
judicious  elementary  instructor,  as  well  as  to  have 
preserved,  in  a  remarkable  degree,  that  zeal  for  the 
improvement  of  his  pupils,  and  delight  in  witness- 
ing their  progress,  which  do  more,  perhaps,  than 
any  thing  else  to  render  a  teacher's  efforts  success- 
ful. In  a  letter  addressed  to  Mr.  Walker,  and 
written  some  years  after  the  death  of  the  poet,  this 
person  says:  "Upon  this  httle  farm  (the  first 
which  Burn's  father  had)  was  erected  an  humble 
dwelHng,  of  which  William  Burns  was  the  archi- 
tect. It  was,  with  the  exception  of  a  little  straw, 
literally  a  tabernacle  of  clay.  In  this  mean  cot- 
tage, of  which  I  myself  was  at  times  an  inhabitant, 
I  really  believe  there  dwelt  a  larger  portion  of 


EGBERT   BUKNS.  61 

content  than  in  any  palace  in  Europe."  In  noticing, 
afterward,  the  ease  with  which  his  young  pupils 
(Robert  being  then  about  six  or  seven  years  of 
age)  learned  their  tasks,  he  remarks,  "  This  facility 
was  partly  owing  to  the  method  pursued  by  their 
father  and  me  in  instructing  them,  which  was,  to 
make  them  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  mean- 
ing of  every  word  in  each  sentence  that  was  to  be 
committed  to  memory.  By-the-bye,  this  may  be 
easier  done,  and  at  an  earlier  period,  than  is  gen- 
erally thought.  As  soon  as  they  w^ere  capable  of 
it,  I  taught  them  to  turn  verse  into  natural  prose 
order;  sometimes  to  substitute  synonymous  ex- 
pressions for  poetical  words,  and  to  supply  all  the 
ellipses.  These,  you  know,  are  the  means  of 
knowing  that  the  pupil  understands  his  author." 

"  These  are  excellent  helps  to  the  arrangement 
of  words  in  sentences,  as  well  as  to  a  variety  of 
expression." 

In  the  remainder  of  the  letter,  the  writer  gives 
a  very  interesting  account  of  the  manner  in  w^hich 
he  and  his  pupil,  at  a  future  period,  commenced 
and  carried  on  their  French  studies. 

When  Robert  Burns  was  about  thirteen  years 
of  age,  Murdoch  had  been  appointed  parish  school- 
master of  Ayr,  upon  which,  as  we  have  already 
mentioned,  Burns  was  sent  for  a  few  weeks  to  at- 
tend his  school.  "He  was  now  with  me,"  says 
Murdoch,  "  day  and  night,  in  school,  at  all  meals, 
and  in  all  my  walks.  At  the  end  of  one  week  I 
told  him  that,  as  he  was  now  pretty  much  master 


0^5  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

of  the  parts  of  speech,  etc.,  I  should  like  to  teach 
him  something  of  French  pronunciation ;  that, 
when  he  should  meet  with  the  name  of  a  French 
town,  ship,  officer,  or  the  like,  in  the  newspapers, 
he  might  be  able  to  pronounce  it  something  like  a 
French  word. 

"  Robert  was  glad  to  hear  this  proposal,  and  im- 
mediately we  attacked  the  French  with  great 
courage.  Now  there  was  little  else  to  be  heard 
but  the  declension  of  nouns,  the  conjugation  of 
verbs,  etc.  When  walking  together,  and  even  at 
meals,  I  was  constantly  telling  him  the  names  of 
different  objects,  as  they  presented  themselves,  in 
French ;  so  that  he  was  hourly  laying  in  a  stock 
of  words,  and  sometimes  little  phrases.  In  short, 
he  took  such  pleasure  in  learning,  and  I  in  teach- 
ing, that  it  was  difficult  to  say  which  of  the  two 
was  most  zealous  in  the  business ;  and  about  the 
end  of  the  second  week  of  our  study  of  the  French, 
we  began  to  read  a  little  of  the  '  Adventures  of 
Telemachus,'  in  Fenelon's  own  words." 

Another  week  was  hardly  over  when  the  young 
student  was  obliged  to  leave  school  for  the  labors 
of  the  harvest.  "  I  did  not,  however,"  says  Mur- 
doch, lose  sight  of  him,  but  was  a  frequent  visitor 
at  his  fiither's  house  when  I  had  my  half-holiday ; 
and  very  often  went  accompanied  by  one  or  two 
persons  more  intelligent  than  myself,  that  good 
William  Burns  might  enjoy  a  mental  feast. 

"Then  the  laboring  oar  was  shifted  to  some 
other  hand.     The  father  and  son  sat  down  with 


ROBERT   BURNS.  63 

US,  when  we  enjoyed  a  conversation  wherein  solid 
reasoning,  sensible  remark,  and  a  moderate  season- 
ing of  jocularity,  were  so  nicely  blended  as  to  ren- 
der it  palatable  to  all  parties.  Robert  had  a  hund- 
red questions  to  ask  me  about  the  French,  etc. ; 
and  the  father,  who  had  always  rational  informa- 
tion in  view,  had  still  some  question  to  propose  to 
my  more  learned  friends  upon  moral  or  natural 
philosophy,  or  some  such  interesting  subject." 

It  is  delightful  to  contemplate  such  scenes  of 
humble  life  as  these,  showing  us,  as  they  do,  what 
the  desire  of  intellectual  cultivation  may  accomp- 
lish in  any  circumstances,  and  with  how  much 
genuine  happiness  it  will  irradiate  the  gloom  even 
of  the  severest  poverty. 

We  shall  not  pursue  further  the  history  of 
Robert  Bums.  All  know  his  sudden  blaze  of  pop- 
ularity; the  misfortunes  and  errors  of  his  short 
life ;  and  the  immortality  which  he  has  won  by  his 
genius.  It  is  plain,  from  the  details  we  have  given, 
that,  even  had  he  never  been  a  poet,  he  would 
have  grown  up  to  be  no  common  man.  Whatever 
he  owed  to  nature,  it  was  to  his  admirable  father, 
and  his  own  zealous  exertions,  that  he  was  indebted 
at  least  for  that  education  of  his  powers,  and  that 
storing  of  his  mind  with  knowledge,  which  in  so 
great  a  degree  contriMited  to  make  him  what  he 
afterward  became. 


ELISHA  KENT  KANE. 

The  name  of  Elisha  Kent  Kane,  in  the  language 
of  his  biographer,*  has  passed  into  history,  the 
history  of  science  and  heroic  adventure.  The 
youth  of  his  country  desire  to  know  him  person- 
ally, intimately.  There  is  a  lesson  in  his  life  for 
them.  Hero-worship  is  a  form  of  devotional  faith 
which  may  or  may  not  yield  its  best  fruit  to  the 
worshiper  :  the  spirit  of  a  generous  emulation 
must  work  in  him  to  produce  them,  and  for  this 
he  needs  the  directory  of  the  facts  and  influences 
which  grew  his  model  into  greatness. 

Elisha  Kane  was  born  in  Philadelphia  on  the 
3d  of  February,  1820;  his  father  was  John  K. 
Kane,  a  member  of  the  Philadelphia  bar,  and 
afterward  Judge  of  the  United  States  District 
Court.  Elisha  was  the  eldest  of  seven  children. 
His  child-history  is  full  of  incidents  and  adven- 
tures ;  in  his  boyhood  he  evinced  the  same  dar- 
ing spirit  and  indomitable  energy  and  perseverance 
which  characterized  him  through  life,  and  in  his 

*  Biography  of  Elisha  Kent  Kane  by  William  Elder. 


ELISIIA    KENT   KANE.  65 

Arctic  adventures  rendered  him  the  pride  of  his 
countrymen,  and  the  admiration  of  the  world. 

His  frame  was  admirably  fitted  for  all  manner  of 
athletic  exercises,  and  his  impulses  kept  it  well  up 
to  the  limits  of  its  capabilities,  daring  and  doing 
every  thing  within  the  liberties  of  boy-life  with  an 
intent  seriousness  of  desperation  which  kept  do- 
mestic rule  upon  the  stretch.  It  was  not  the 
monkey  mirthfulness,  nor  the  unprincipted  reck- 
lessness of  childhood,  that  he  was  chargeable 
with,  but  something  more  of  purpose  and  tenacity 
in  exacting  deference  and  enforcing  equity  than  is 
usually  allowed  to  boyhood. 

Difficult,  daring,  and  desperate  enterprises,  not 
only  useless  but  recklessly  wild,  worked  in  him 
like  one  possessed.  The  following  exploit  will  illus- 
trate this  peculiarity  of  his  character : 

When  about  ten  years  of  age,  he  was  seized 
with  a  desire  to  reach  the  top  of  the  kitchen 
chimney,  which  stood  sixteen  feet  above  the  roof, 
and  set  about  to  accomplish  it  in  the  following 
manner : 

Having  made  such  preparations  as  were  neces- 
sary, he  fixed  upon  the  night  for  the  attempt,  and 
waiting  until  all  the  family  were  asleep,  then, 
arousing  his  younger  brother,  who  slept  with  him, 
they  proceeded  to  the  roof  of  the  front  building, 
and  dropped  themselves  upon  that  of  the  kitchen. 

The  clothes-line,  with  a  stone  tied  securely  to 
one  end,  was  already  lying  there  in  wait  for  them. 

"  What  is  the  stone  for  ?"  inquired  his  brother. 
5 


66  FAZtlOUS   EOYS. 

"Why,  you  see,  Tom,  the  stone  is  a  dipsey.  I 
call  it  a  dipsey  (a  newly-coined  word  of  his  to  suit 
the  occasion)  because  I'm  going  to  throw  it  into 
the  flue,  so  that  it  will  run  down  into  the  old 
fiirnace,  carrying  the  line  down  with  it,  and  then 
I  can  slip  down  and  fasten  it  there.  Now  for  a 
heave.  The  chimney-top  is  almost  too  high  for 
me.  It  is  pretty  near  twenty  feet,  I  should  think ; 
but  I'll  do  it." 

After  many  unsuccessful  attempts  in  throwing 
the  line,  he  at  last  succeeded,  and  the  stone  was 
heard  to  fall  within  the  chimney.  Elisha  rushed 
through  the  trap-door  down  to  the  kitchen,  fast- 
ened the  stone,  and  was  back  again  ready  for  the 
most  difficult  part  of  the  undertaking. 

The  chimney  was  built  on  the  edge  of  the  roof  nnd 
very  narrow,  so  Tom  was  firmly  planted  with  the 
rope  in  his  hand  by  which  to  prevent  Elisha  from 
swinging  out  beyond  the  roof,  and  thereby  run  the 
risk  of  falling  some  forty  or  fifty  feet  to  the  pave- 
ment below. 

These  precautions  being  taken,  Elisha  seized  the 
rope,  commenced  his  ascent  hand  over  hand,  but 
on  reaching  the  top  bricks  he  attempted  to  draw 
himself  up  by  them,  but  found  they  were  loose 
and  insecure.  With  much  difficulty  he  managed 
to  get  his  elbows  over  the  edge,  and  then  dexter- 
ously worked  himself  up  to  the  top. 

"Oh,  Tom,"  exclaimed  he,  as  he  seated  himself 
on  the  dizzy  height,  "  what  a  nice  place  this  is  I 
I'll  get  down  into  the  flue  to  my  waist,  and  puU 


ELISHA   KENT   KANE.  67 

you  up  too.  Just  make  a  loop  in  the  rope  and 
I'll  haul  you  in.  Don't  be  afraid — it  is  so  grand 
up  here." 

But  this  feat  he  could  not  accomplish,  his  strength 
proving  inadequate. 

Descending  the  rope  now  was  nearly  as  dangerous 
as  the  ascent,  but  he  began  the  descent  cautiously 
though  fearlessly,  and  reached  the  roof  in  safety. 
It  was  now  necessary  to  remove  all  evidence  of 
their  wild  prank,  and  after  thoroughly  washing 
the  rope,  cleansing  it  from  the  chimney  soot, 
they  retired  to  bed,  happy  in  the  success  of  their 
task. 

"  Elisha  as  a  boy  had  not  a  vice  or  a  fault  that 
could  spoil  the  man  ;  but  he  had  scarcely  an  incli- 
nation that  promised  success  in  the  life  designed 
for  him.  There  was  riding  at  breakneck  speed 
to  be  done ;  trees  and  rocks  to  climb  ;  pebbles 
to  pick ;  dogs  to "  train  ;  chemistry,  geology,  and 
geography  to  explore,  with  his  eyes  and  fingers 
on  the  facts ;  sketching,  whittling,  and  cobbling 
to  do,  with  other  heroics  of  muscle  and  mind — all 
mixed  in  a  medley  of  matter  and  system,  for  which 
there  was  no  promising  precedent,  and  no  pro- 
phecy of  good." 

It  was  not  until  his  sixteenth  year  that  he  be- 
gan to  feel  the  deficiencies  of  his  education,  he 
then  addressed  himself  vigorously  to  the  work  of 
repairing  them,  and  made  such  rapid  progress  in 
his  studies  that  he  was  enabled  to  enter  the  Uni- 
versity at  Virginia  in  the   same  year.     He  re- 


68  FAMOUS   EOYS. 

mained  here  a  year  and  a  half,  when  a  danger- 
ous iUness  compelled  him  to  relinquish  his  studies 
and  return  home.  This  illness  proved  to  be  a 
disease  of  the  heart,  and  for  a  long  period  there 
was  little  hope  of  his  recovery.  The  physician 
told  him  that  any  incautious  movement  might 
prove  fatal.  "  You  may  fall,  Ehsha,"  said  he,  "  as 
suddenly  as  from  a  musket-shot."  With  this 
knowledge  ever  present  before  him,  he  became 
earnest  and  hopeful,  prepared  to  die,  ready  to 
live. 

Once,  while  at  the  University  he  told  a  cousin 
that  he  was  "  determined  to  make  his  mark  in  the 
world."  And,  notwithstanding  the  critical  nature 
of  the  disease,  which  rendered  death  always  im- 
pending and  at  any  moment  probable,  he  reso- 
lutely pursued  this  purpose,  and  in  no  instance 
abated  his  efforts  or  his  studies  in  consequence  of 
his  physical  infirmities. 

He  adopted  the  profession  of  medicine,  entered 
the  office  of  Dr.  William  Harris,  of  Philadelphia, 
and  pursued  his  studies  Avith  much  zeal  and  deter- 
mination, although  his  recovery  was  as  yet  tardy 
and  imperfect.  In  his  twenty-first  year,  he  was 
elected  Resident  Physician  in  the  Pennsylvania 
Hospital,  Blockley. 

His  youthful  appearance  told  against  him  at 
first,  but  soon  his  dignified  character  and  intelli- 
gence won  for  him  the  respect  and  confidence, 
both  of  his  associates  and  patients. 

He  remained  in  the  Hospital  nearly  two  years, 


EI.ISHA    KENT   KANE.  69 

when  he  was  offered  and  accepted  the  position  of 
physician  to  the  Chinese  Embassy,  which  left  our 
coast  in  May  1843. 

On  the  voyage,  the  vessels  stopped  and  were 
frequently  delayed  at  various  ports,  and  Dr.  Kane 
invariably  seized  the  opportunity  thus  afforded  hira, 
by  traveling  into  the  interior,  and  exploring  and 
visiting  all  that  was  of  interest.  Upon  one  of  these 
occasions,  he  had  the  hardihood  and  daring  to 
enter  the  crater  of  the  volcano  of  Tael,  which  is 
situated  on  one  of  the  Phillippine  Island's. 

"  His  descent  into  the  Tael  was  a  feat  which  only 
one  European  has  attempted  before,  and  he  with- 
out success.  Dr.  Kane  was  in  company  with 
Baron  Lao.  They  had  an  escort  of  natives,  pro- 
vided by  the  ecclesiastics  of  the  neighboring  sanc- 
tuary of  Casaisay,  who  pointed  out  the  only  path- 
way to  the  brink  of  the  crater. 

"The  two  gentlemen  attempted  the  descent 
together,  but  they  soon  reached  a  projecting  ledge 
from  which  further  progress  was  absolutely  precip- 
itous. After  searching  in  vain  for  some  more  prac- 
ticable route,  the  Baron  gave  up  the  project,  and 
united  with  the  rest  of  the  party  in  efforts  to 
persuade  the  doctor  to  abandon  it  also.  But  that 
was  out  of  the  question.  It  was  Kane's  temper  to 
meet  difficulty  with  proportioned  endeavor,  and  to 
do  his  best  to  master  it  before  he  yielded. 

"  The  attendants  very  reluctantly  gathered  from 
the  jungle  a  quantity  of  bamboos,  and  fastened 
them  into  a  rude  but  strong  rope,  by  which,  under 


70  fa:mous  boys. 

the  guidance  of  the  Baron,  they  lowered  him  over 
the  brink. 

"  He  touched  bottom  at  a  depth  of  more  than 
two  hundred  feet  from  the  platform  he  had  left, 
and,  detaching  himself  from  the  cord,  clambered 
sloAvly  downward  until  he  reached  the  smoking 
lake  below  and  dipped  his  specimen-bottles  under 
its  surface. 

"  The  next  thing  now  Tvas  to  get  back  again 
with  the  trophies  of  his  achievement. 

"  This  he  used  to  speak  of  as  the  only  dangerous 
part  of  the  enterprise.  The  scalding  ashes  gave 
way  under  him  at  every  step  of  his  return ;  a 
change  in  the  air-current  stifled  him  with  sulphur- 
ous vapors  ;  he  fell  repeatedly,  and,  before  he  got 
back  to  the  spot  where  his  rope  was  dangling,  his 
boots  were  so  charred  that  one  of  them  went  to 
pieces  on  his  foot.  He,  however,  succeeded  in 
tying  the  bamboo  round  his  w\aist,  and  was  hauled 
up  almost  insensible,  and  sank  exhausted  in  the 
hands  of  his  assistants.  The  Baron  dashed  him 
with  water,  and  applied  restoratives  brought  by  a 
messenger  whom  he  had  despatched  to  the  neigh- 
borhig  hermitage.  The  remedies  were  so  far  suc- 
cessful that  he  could  be  carried  to  the  halting- 
place  of  the  night  before.  He  had  saved  his 
bottles  of  sulphur-water,  which  he  sent  home  to 
be  analyzed,  and  with  them  some  fine  specimens  of 
porphyritic  tufa." 

When  the  negotiations  of  the  Embassy  w^ere  con- 
cluded, Dr.  Kane  procured  a  substitute  for  his 


ELISHA   KENT   KANE.  Yl 

official  position,  being  unwilling  to  return  home, 
as  he  desired  to  remain  in  China  to  practice  his 
profession  there  for  a  while,  in  order  to  raise  suffi- 
cient funds  by  which  he  would  be  enabled  to  ex- 
tend his  travels.  His  practice  both  as  physician 
and  surgeon  proved  to  be  very  successful  until  he 
was  taken  suddenly  ill  with  the  rice-fever.  A 
friend  residing  in  Canton  took  him  home,  and 
nursed  him  with  great  kindness. 

As  soon  as  he  was  sufficiently  recovered  he  made 
arrangements  to  return  by  the  overland  route  to 
Europe.  He  did  not  reach  home,  however,  until 
the  winter  of  1845.  The  intermediate  time  he 
spent  in  rapid  traveling  through  India,  Egypt, 
CJreece,  Germany,  and  Switzerland. 

Soon  after  his  return  he  was  ordered  (as  surgeon 
of  the  United  States  navy)  to  the  coast  of  Africa, 
and  while  engaged  in  exploring  that  dangerous 
coast,  he  was  prostrated  by  the  fever  peculiar 
to  that  clime,  and  was  sent  home  an  invalid  in 
1847. 

Our  war  with  Mexico  was  then  in  progress,  and 
so  impatient  was  Dr.  Kane  to  be  m  active  ser\ice 
again,  that  he  applied  for  a  position  in  the  army, 
before  his  friends  thought  him  to  be  convalescent. 
His  apphcation  was  received,  and  he  started  for 
Mexico  on  the  6th  of  November,  1847,  bearing  im- 
portant dispatches  to  General  Scott.  He  remained 
there  until  the  war  was  over. 

It  was  while  engaged  in  this  service  on  the 
coast-survey  that  he  was  summoned  to  join  the 


72  FAIVIOUS   BOYS. 

Arctic  Expedition,  then  preparing  to  set  out  in 
search  of  Sir  John  Franklin. 

Dr.  Kane  -himself  says:  "On  the  12th  of  May, 
1860,  while  bathing  in  the  tepid  waters  of  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  I  received  one  of  those  courteous 
little  epistles  from  Washington,  which  the  electric 
telegraph  has  made  so  familiar  to  naval  officers. 

"  It  detached  me  from  the  coast-survey,  and  or- 
dered me  to  '  proceed  forthwith  to  New  York  for 
duty  upon  the  Arctic  Expedition.' 

"Seven  and  a  half  days  later  I  had  accom- 
pHshed  my  overland  journey  of  thirteen  hundred 
miles,  and  in  forty  hours  more  our  squadron  was 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  United  States :  the  De- 
partment had  calculated  my  traveling  time  to  a 
nicety." 

Five  years  previous  to  the  very  month,  and 
almost  to  the  day,  did  Sir  John  Franklin  set  sail 
on  his  fourth  and  last  voyage  in  hopes  of  discover- 
ing a  Northwest  Passage  to  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
Several  vessels  had  been  despatched  by  the  British 
government  in  search  of  the  adventurers,  but  had 
returned  without  success.  Then  Lady  Franklin 
appealed  to  our  country  for  assistance  in  behalf  of 
her  husband. 

An  appeal  most  touching  and  eloquent  in  its 
language  and  its  subject  was  not  to  be  resisted ; 
and  Henry  Grinnell,  Esq.,  of  New  York,  made 
offer  of  two  vessels  completely  furnished  for  an 
expedition  in  search  of  the  lost  mariners.  These 
vessels,  "  Advance"  and  "  Rescue,"  were  accepted 


ELISIIA    KENT   IvANE.  73 

and  manned  by  the  navy ;  the  command  given  to 
Lieutenant  De  Haven,  and  Dr.  Kane  was  ap- 
pointed senior  medical  officer  aboard  the  Ad- 
vance. 

They  started  on  their  mission  of  love  and  duty 
the  22d  of  May,  1850,  encountering  all  kinds  of 
privations,  hardships,  and  danger,  and  returned 
home  after  spending  sixteen  months  in  unsuccess- 
ful search. 

On  the  30th  of  May,  1853,  the  Advance  again 
set  out  for  the  Arctic  seas,  having  been  placed 
this  time  at  the  disposal  of  Dr.  Kane.  Twenty 
months  did  the  adventurers  pass  hi  those  frozen 
seas,  still  unsuccessful  as  before,  meeting  no  trace 
of  the  lost  Sir  John  Franklin  and  his  crew, 
whose  melancholy  fate  has  since  been  placed  be- 
yond doubt  by  the  researches  of  Captain  McClin- 
tock.  It  is  impossible,  in  this  short  sketch,  to 
give  an  account  of  the  perils  our  adventurers  en- 
countered, or  the  sufferings  they  endured,  amid 
raging  storms,  and  drifting  ice,  crushing  bergs, 
and  dashing  floes,  hidden  rocks  and  benumbing 
cold.  They  were  at  last  compelled  to  return, 
with  the  object  of  their  search  undiscovered,  but 
their  voyage  must  not  be  considered  fruitless  in 
view  of  the  many  important  facts  contributed  to 
our  knowledge  of  the  Arctic  Seas.  Dr.  Kane's 
account  of  the  two  Expeditions  with  which  he 
was  identified  are  two  as  delightful  and  spirited 
volumes  as  any  in  the  language.  They  have  the 
fascination  of  a  romance ;  their  pages  are  crowded 


74:  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

with  adventures  and  incidents  of  the  most  thrill- 
ing and  entrancing  kind ;  they  describe  scenes 
fascinating  in  their  strangeness  and  sublimity  ; 
they  open  to  us  a  history- utterly  apart  from  com- 
mon experience,  and  awaken  impulses  of  fear,  in- 
terest, sympathy,  and  admiration.  Courage,  for- 
titude, patience,  suffering,  endurance — these  quali- 
ties elevate  the  Arctic  adventurers  into  heroes,  and 
will  associate  their  names  with  the  bravest  and 
greatest  in  the  w^orld. 

Dr.  Kane  bore  the  seeds  of  disease  in  his  con- 
stitution ;  the  rigor  of  the  Arctic  ^vdnters  developed 
them.  Soon  after  his  return  it  became  painfully 
apparent  that  his  health  was  seriously  impaired. 
He  went  to  England  with  the  hope  of  finding 
benefit  in  change,  but  grew  rapidly  worse.  He 
proceeded  thence  to  Cuba,  but  found  no  aid  from 
the  climate,  and  died  at  Havana  on  the  16th  of 
February,  1857,  mourned  by  every  American  as 
if  he  were  a  brother.  No  man  was  ever  followed 
to  the  grave  by  the  more  sincere  grief  of  a  nation. 
Dr.  Kane  was  absolutely  loved  by  his  countrymen  ; 
their  affections,  sympathies,  and  admiration,  crown 
him  with  honor  and  renown. 

We  do  not  hold  up  Dr.  Kane  as  a  model  because 
he  possessed  a  spirit  of  adventure.  That  fondness 
for  danger  which  he  exhibited  as  a  boy  in  climbing 
to  the  top  of  the  lofty  chimney,  and  afterward  in 
descending  into  the  mouth  of  the  volcano,  are 
things  to  admire,  but  not  necessarily  things  to 
imitate.    The  qualities   exhibited  by  Dr.  Kane, 


ELISHA   KENT   KANE.  75 

which  every  boy  might  study  and  try  to  imitate, 
are  honesty,  simplicity,  and  truthfulness  of  charac- 
ter ;  resolute  working  out  of  his  own  purposes ; 
generous  renunciation  of  self,  exhibiting  a  temper 
more  occupied  with  the  destinies,  fates,  and  for- 
tunes of  others  than  with  his  own  selfish  advance- 
ment. He  was  determined  to  make  his  mark  in 
the  worfd,  but  he  was  also  determined  to  contrib- 
ute something  to  the  store  of  human  knowledge. 
To  this  end  he  was  ready  to  brave  any  danger  or 
hardship ;  and  when  we  recollect  all  the  sufferings 
he  experienced  in  the  Arctic  seas,  prompted  to  his 
mission  by  the  hope  of  rescuing  from  a  terrible 
death  the  noble  Franklin  and  his  followers,  and, 
if  possible,  to  solve  that  great  geographical  ques- 
tion of  the  age,  the  North- West  passage,  we  cannot 
refrain  from  admitting  at  once  that  he  possessed 
the  attributes  of  a  hero.  But  all  men  cannot  be 
heroes  in  the  same  direction.  Let  the  lad  who 
reads  this  page  wisely  select  what  his  course  of 
life  shall  be,  and  work  as  honestly,  magnanimous- 
ly, fearlessly  to  accomplish  his  ends  as  Elisha 
Kane  did,  and  he  too  cannot  fail  to  make  his  mark 
in  the  world. 


HENEY  CLAY. 

Henry  Clay  was  born  in  Hanover  county, 
Virginia,  April  12th,  1777,  less  than  one  year  after 
the  Declaration  of  Independence.  His  birth  was, 
therefore,  almost  contemporaneous  with  that  of 
his  country.  Henry  was  the  fifth  of  a  family  of 
seven  children,  which,  at  an  early  age,  were  left 
to  the  care  of  a  widoAved  mother.  The  limited 
means  at  the  disposal  of  this  lady  rendered  the 
educational  advantages  of  her  children  very  small. 
He  attended  the  log-cabin  schoolhouse  kept  by  one 
Peter  Deacon,  an  establishment  consisting  of  but 
one  room,  with  no  floor  but  the  earth,  and  no 
window  but  the  door.  At  this  primitive  "  acad- 
emy" he  succeeded  in  mastering  the  mysteries  of 
reading,  Avriting,  and  a  little  insight  into  arith- 
metic. And  even  with  these  poor  advantages,  he 
was  enabled  to  devote  only  a  portion  of  his  time 
to  his  studies ;  it  being  his  duty  to  contribute  a 
portion  of  labor  toward  the  support  of  the  family. 
He  ploughed,  performed  many  duties  about  the 
farm,  and,  among  others,  was  selected  to  carry 
grain  to  the  mill.  Hence  arose  that  appellation 
which  in  after-life,  when  the  foremost  statesman 


The  Mill-Boy  of  the  Slashes, 


Page  76. 


J  >     >   > 


HENRY    CLAY.  T7 

of  tlie  age,  his  admirers  delighted  to  apply  to 
him—"  Mill-boy  of  the  Slashes."  The  Slashes 
was  the  name  of  the  low,  swampy  neighborhood 
in  which  his  mother  resided.  It  is  customary  to 
depict  him  on  his  errands  to  the  mill  riding  a 
horse  without  a  saddle,  and  with  a  rope  for  a 
bridle. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen,  he  was  removed  from 
this  "seminary  of  learning,"  and  placed  in  the 
store  of  Mr.  Richard  Denny,  in  Richmond,  Vir- 
ginia. In  what  manner  he  spent  his  time  in  this 
employment  we  have  no  account.  At  the  end  of  a 
year,  at  the  friendly  suggestion  of  Captain  Henry 
Watkins,  who  had  taken  a  Hvely  interest  in  the 
lad,  he  was  removed  from  the  store,  and  placed  at 
a  desk  in  the  office  of  the  clerk  of  the  High  Court 
of  Chancery,  Peter  Tinsley,  Esq.  This  was  a  for- 
tunate step  for  Henry,  and  opened  to  him  oppor- 
tunities which  he  made  haste  to  avail  himself  of. 
It  is  related  that  at  this  period  Clay  was  so  awk- 
ward in  manner  and  so  eccentric  in  appearance  as 
to  excite  the  mirth  and  derision  of  his  fellow-clerks. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  homespun,  cotton  and 
silk  mixed,  of  the  complexion  of  pepper  and  salt, 
excessively-starched  linen,  and  a  coat  the  tail  of 
which  stood  out  at  an  alarming  angle.  This  was 
very  comical,  it  must  be  admitted,  and  Henry  was 
never  a  handsome  lad.  The  clerks  laughed,  but 
soon  discovered  that  the  awkward-looking  rustic 
carried  a  sharp  tongue  in  his  head.  They  were 
glad  to  make  friends  with  him,  if  for  no  other 


Y8  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

reason  than  to  escape  an  ability  at  repartee  which 
was  too  much  for  them. 

Young  Clay  was  put  to  copying,  a  tasteless 
drudgery,  but  the  youth  set  to  work  at  it  with 
zeal,  and  performed  his  labor  so  w^ell  as  to  merit 
and  receive  commendation.  But  he  was  not  con- 
tent to  be  a  mere  copyist ;  he  gathered  facts  and 
hints  from  the  pages  which  he  transcribed,  and 
became  fired  with  a  desire  of  knowledge.  He  filled 
up  his  leisure  with  study,  and  already  looked  for- 
ward to  the  time  when  he  should  be  sometliing 
more  than  a  copyist.  He  was  fortunate  in  ai'ous- 
ing  the  interest  of  the  venerable  Chancellor  Wythe, 
who,  needing  an  amanuensis,  and  pleased  with  the 
appearance  of  Henry,  offered  him  the  situation. 
The  proposition  was  readily  acceded  to,  most  for- 
tunately for  the  future  career  of  our  hero.  The 
advantages  he  experienced  in  the  Chancellor's 
ofiice  were  invaluable. 

"  The  studies  of  the  Chancellor  were  prosecuted 
with  great  industry  and  far-reaching  research ;  in 
learning,  industry,  and  sound  judgment,  he  had 
few  superiors  ;  and  for  a  lad  like  Henry  Clay  to 
be  such  a  man's  private  secretary  was  itself  an 
education.  And  not  only  in  strictly  legal  know^l- 
edge,  but  in  the  classics,  in  history,  in  polite  liter- 
ature, the  friendly  advice  of  the  Chancellor  w^as 
the  guide  of  the  young  clerk.  Under  such  judi- 
cious instruction,  Henry  Clay  was  so  trained  that 
he  was  more  than  able  to  cope  with  his  compeers, 
who  received  the  benefits  of  education  in  univer- 


HENRY    CLAY.  ^9 

sities.  He  was  a  continual  student,  needing  only- 
suggestive  advice ;  and  he  rewarded  counsel  by 
obedience,  thus  encouraging  his  friends  to  direct 
him.  Nothing  is  more  discouraging  to  one  who 
wishes  well  to  a  youth  than  to  find  hini  inattentive 
to  the  directions  of  his  elders.  No  labor  was 
thus  lost  upon  Henry  Clay.  He  not  only  availed 
himself  of  the  kindness  of  his  friends,  but  remem 
bered  their  good  offices  with  gratitude,  and  re 
ferred  to  them  with  emotion,  when  he  had  reached 
a  position  in  which  he  no  longer  needed  patronage 
or  advice,  but  could  confer  both. 

"  Many  youth  read — but  their  reading  may  be 
desultory ;  without  any  established  aim,  and  per- 
haps with  no  higher  object  than  amusement. 
Henry  Clay  read  with  an  object,  as  is  evident 
from  the  fixct  that  when  his  name  had  been  en- 
rolled for  about  a  year  only  as  a  student  of  law, 
in  the  office  of  Attorney-General  Brooke,  he  was 
admitted  to  practice  by  the  Count  of  Appeals.  It 
is  not  to  be  supposed  that  one  year  could  confer 
knowledge  of  law  sufficient  to  entitle  a  minor  to 
admission  to  the  bar,  and  we,  therefore,  infer  that 
the  reading  of  the  lad  always  was  of  a  practical 
and  useful  character.  For  five  years  young  Clay 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  Chancellor  Wythe's 
friendship  ;  and  he  was  furthermore  introduced 
into  the  society  and  notice  of  John  Marshall,  after- 
ward Chief-Justice  of  the  United  States,  and  other 
distinguished  men  of  that  era.  He  had  thus  an 
opportunity  of  acquiring,  at  the  fountain-head,  a 


80  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  the  founders  of  the 
republic,  in  the  constitution  which  they  drew  up, 
and  the  laws  which  were  passed  in  pursuance  of  it. 
His  intimate  relation  with  these  political  patriarchs 
apprised  him  of  the  cost  of  that  Union  with  which 
his  life  may  be  said  to  have  begun  ;  and  in  his 
after-life  he  showed  himself,  on  more  than  one 
important  occasion,  the  effective  friend  of  his 
country,  and  its  able  defender,  whether  the  threat- 
ening danger  came  from  foreign  foes,  or  arose 
from  internal  difficulties. 

"  We  cannot  pass  this  period  in  the  life  of  our 
hero,  without  commending  the  example  of  the 
young  man  who  sought  to  improve  his  mind  by 
listening  to  the  wisdom  of  his  seniors,  rather 
than  to  dissipate  his  time  and  talents  in  amuse- 
ment with  his  fellow-students.  He  thus  secured 
the  esteem  of  men  who  could  appreciate  his  char- 
acter, and  predict  his  success.  His  relations  with 
those  of  his  own  age  were  also  of  an  elevating 
character.  Like  seeks  like — and  with  other  young 
men  like  himself,  studious  and  ambitious,  he  com- 
bined amusement  with  instruction  in  the  exercises 
of  a  debating-society ;  which  was  the  first  scene 
of  his  capacity  for  oratory  and  for  argument.  The 
promise  of  his  life  early  developed  itself;  and  we 
may  add  also  that  his  capacity  for  winning  and 
securing  friends  was  also  manifested.  His  frank 
and  generous  nature  had  none  of  the  art  which 
can  secure  advancement  by  duplicity  and  manage- 
ment.    He  had  not  the  small  ambition  which  can 


HENEY  CLAY.  81 

stoop  to  flattery  and  fawning,  but  his  character 
was  stamped  with  an  early  manliness  which  com- 
mands respect  while  it  invites  aflTection." 

He  was  now  in  his  twenty-first  year,  and,  to  use 
his  own  words,  found  himself  in  Lexington  with- 
out patrons,  without  the  means  of  paying  his 
weekly  board,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  bar  uncom- 
monly distinguished  by  eminent  writers.  "  I  re- 
member," he  adds,  "  how  comfortable  I  thought  I 
should  be  if  I  could  make  one  hundred  pounds, 
Vii'ginia  money,  per  year,  and  with  w^hat  delight 
I  received  the  first  fifteen  shillings  fee."  His 
hopes  were  more  than  realized — he  immediately 
secured  a  successful  and  lucrative  practice.  "  His 
subtle  appreciation  of  character,  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  and  faculties  of  persuasion,  rendered 
him  peculiarly  successful  in  his  appeals  to  a  juiy, 
and  he  obtained  great  celebrity  for  his  adroit  and 
careful  management  of  criminal  cases." 

The  power  Mr.  Clay  exercised  over  masses  of 
men  rendered  him  an  invaluable  speaker  on  politi- 
cal subjects,  and  we  soon  find  him  drawn  from  the 
warm  sphere  of  his  profession  into  the  broader  arena 
of  politics.  Into  this  arena  we  do  not  intend  to 
follow  him.  The  circumstances  of  his  career  are 
familiar  to  every  one  ;  he  rose  by  successive 
grades  to  many  positions  of  honor,  and  although 
he  failed  to  obtain  that  splendid  prize  to  which 
he  aspired,  the  presidency,  he  reached  a  rank  even 
more  elevated — the  wise  statesman,  the  honorable 
senator,  the  popular  orator,  the  noble,  honest,  in- 
6 


82  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

flexible  patriot !  No  public  man,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  our  Washington,  was  ever  so  loved  by  the 
people  as  Henry  Clay.  He  possessed  to  an  emi- 
nent degree  those  faculties  which  inspire  enthusi- 
asm, and  the  "  mill-boy  of  the  Slashes"  became 
the  delight,  the  admiration,  the  pride  of  his  coun- 
trymen. We  cannot  pass  by  this  part  of  his 
career,  however,  without  relating  an  anecdote 
which  affords  an  amusing  idea  of  W^estern  life  and 
character.  Mr.  Clay  was  nominated  for  the  Ken- 
tucky legislature,  and  during  the  "canvassing" 
the  following  incident  occurred : 

"  He  was  addressing  a  crowd,  when  a  party  of 
riflemen,  who  had  been  practising,  drew  near  to 
listen.*  They  were  pleased  with  the  off-hand  and 
attractive  style  of  his  oratory,  but,  backwoods- 
men-like, considered  that  there  were  other  requis- 
ites to  manhood,  beside  the  capacity  to  talk.  They 
wanted  no  representative  who  was  not  able  to 
honor  the  Kentucky  weapon,  and  do  good  service 
with  the  rifle.  An  old  man  in  the  company,  who 
seemed  to  have  the  place  of  '  spokesman'  assigned 
to  him,  beckoned  to  Mr.  Clay  to  come  toward 
him  when  his  speech  was  finished.  A  candidate 
for  ofiicc,  who  is  soliciting  the  popular  suffrage, 
must  be  very  courteous ;  so  he  obeyed  the  signal. 

" '  Young  man,'  said  the  Nimrod,  '  you  want  to 
go  to  the  Legislature  ?' 

"  Mr.  Clay*  acknowledged  this — very  modestly 
of  course — principally  on  account  of  his  friends ; 
though  he  confessed,  having  been  nominated,  he 


HENKY    CLAY. 


83 


should  like  to  be  successful.  But  he  was  hardly 
prepared  for  the  next  question. 

"  '  Are  you  a  good  shot  ?' 

"  Now  shooting  has  little  to  do  with  legislation, 
but  a  great  deal  depended  upon  the  favor  of 
these  marksmen.  We  are  afraid  that  Mr.  Clay 
had  some  mental  reservation  behind  the  reply  that 
'  he  considered  himself  a  good  markman !'  But 
he  was  to  be  proved. 

" '  Then  you  shall  go  to  the  Legislature,'  said 
Nimrod ;  *  but  we  must  see  you  shoot !' 

"  There  was  no  escape.  Mr.  Clay  pleaded  that 
his  own  rifle  was  at  home,  and  he  never  shot  with 
any  other. 

"'No  matter,'  said  the  hunter.  'Here's  Old 
Bess;  she  never  fails  in  the  hands  of  a  hunter. 
She  has  put  a  bullet  through  many  a  squirrel's 
head,  at  a  hundred  yards.  If  you  can  shoot  with 
anything,  you  can  with  Old  Bess. ^ 

"  t  Very  well !'  said  Mr.  Clay,  '  put  up  your 
mark.'  There  was  no  escape,  and  he  was  resolved 
to  try,  'hit  or  miss.'  The  target  was  placed  at 
eighty  yards,  and  Mr.  Clay,  bringing  the  piece  to 
his  shoulder,  pierced  the  centre — very  much  we 
suspect,  to  his  own  astonishment. 

" '  A  chance  shot !"  cried  his  political  opponents. 
'  He  can't  do  it  again  in  a  hundred  times  trying. 
Let  him  try  it  over ! 

"  Beat  that,  and  I  will !'  said  Mr.  Clay.  It  was 
a  fair  offer,  but  no  one  accepted  it ;  and  he,  leaving 
well  enough  alone,  passed,  with  the  crowd  as  a 


84:  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

good  marksman.  He  had,  moreover,  in  after  life, 
more  fame  in  rifle  practice  than  he  desired.  When 
in  Europe,  as  commissioner  to  make  a  treaty  with 
England,  at  the  close  of  the  war  of  1812,  he  was 
represented  in  an  English  paper  as  the  man  who 
killed  Tecumseh ;  and  furthemore,  it  was  stated 
Avith  all  gravity,  caused  several  razor  strops  to  be 
made  from  the  fallen  Indian's  skin  !" 

Henry  Clay,  in  his  domestic  relations,  sustained 
an  enviable  reputation  as  a  husband,  father,  and 
master.  "  It  was  his  good  fortune  to  be  united  to 
a  lady  of  great  excellence,  and  the  homely  and 
happy  influence  made  Ashland  a  retreat  of  the 
most  tranquil  delight."  Henry  Clay  died  on  the 
morning  of  the  twenty-ninth  of  June,  1852,  in  the 
seventy-fifth  year  of  his  age. 


JOHK  LEYDEX, 

THE   SHEPHERD   BOY. 

If  ever  man  was  bom  in  circumstances  which 
might  seem  adverse  to  the  development  of  great 
Hterary  ability,  that  man  was  John  Leyden,  and  if 
ever  the  abilities  of  any  human  being  rose  superior 
to  the  adversity  of  circumstances,  those  capacities 
and  powers  belonged  to  the  same  individual.  The 
brief  and  instructive  biography  of  this  most  re- 
markable man  is  calculated  to  inspire  us  with  a 
belief  that  circumstances,  so  called,  can  only  be 
esteemed  in  proportion  and  relation  to  particular 
minds.  The  insuperable  obstacles  in  the  path  of 
one  individual  are  mere  excitatives  to  exertion  in 
the  view  of  another.  An  easily  satisfied  or  timid 
mind,  when  it  approaches  some  rugged  steep, 
leading  to  the  temple  of  knowledge  and  fame, 
shrinks  back,  and,  without  an  efibrt,  gives  up  the 
attempt  to  climb.  The  indomitable  and  aspiring 
youth,  who  fixes  his  eye  untiringly  upon  the  one 
grand  object  of  his  travail,  sees  not  the  impedi- 
ments that  roughen  his  onward  way.  He  will 
work  out  his  aim,  in  spite  of  toil,  opposition,  mid- 


8G  JOHN   LEYDEN. 

night  vigils,  and  cold  neglect.  The  strength  of 
his  unseen  spirit  supports  him ;  the  voice  of 
visioned,  white-winged,  sunny-eyed  hope,  is  ever 
whispering  to  him,  although  men  may  shake  their 
heads  and  shrug  their  shoulders.  The  light  that 
irradiates  his  eye  and  illuminates  his  inward  life, 
throws  its  beams  upon  the  object  of  his  ambition, 
and  onward  he  moves,  and  upward  he  climbs, 
without  an  idea  of  defeat,  pitied  or  neglected  by 
the  crowd  while  he  lives  and  struggles,  and  honor- 
ed with  the  epitaph  of  genius  when  he  has  fallen 
down  in  his  proud  career  into  a  premature  grave. 
John  Leyden,  who  preserved  the  rusticity  of  his 
original  manners,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  his  wild 
poetic  nature,  while  he  excelled  all  his  cotempora- 
ries  in  the  acquisition  of  scholastic  attainments  and 
antiquarian  lore,  was  the  son  of  a  poor  moorland 
shepherd.  He  was  born  in  Scotland,  at  Denholm, 
upon  the  estate  of  Cavers,  in  the  vale  of  Teviot,  a 
few  miles  from  Hawick,  on  the  8th  of  September, 
1775,  and  he  was  sent  at  a  very  early  age  to  herd 
cattle  and  tend  sheep  upon  his  native  braes.  About 
a  year  after  his  birth,  his  parents  removed  to 
Henlawshiel,  about  three  miles  distant  from  the 
cottage  where  he  was  born,  and  here  his  father  so- 
journed for  sixteen  years,  tending  the  sheep  of  his 
kinsman,  the  goodman  of  Nether  Tofts,  and  latter- 
ly managing  the  aftairs  of  the  farm,  when  his  rela- 
tive unfortunately  lost  his  sight.  Leyden's  dwell- 
ing-place was  in  the  vicinity  of  the  majestic 
mountain  of  Ruberslaw,  and  the  hut  and  its  ap- 


JOHN    LEYDEN.  87 

purtenauces  were  as  humble  and  simple  as  the 
scenery  in  which  it  was  located  was  grand  and 
lovely.  Leyden  was  ten  years  of  age  before  he 
went  to  school,  but  the  future  linguist  had  been 
taught  his  letters  by  his  grandmother  before  he 
was  sent  to  a  regular  seminary,  and  the  thirst  for 
knowledge  was  awakened  in  him.  The  splendid 
and  inspiring  passages  of  the  Old  Testament  were 
eagerly  devoured  by  the  enraptured  boy.  He 
wept  for  Joseph,  torn  from  his  loved  and  loving 
father,  and  sold  by  his  brethren  into  a  far  country, 
he  rejoiced  in  his  glory  and  triumph,  when  the  poor 
Hebrew  slave  rode  forth  in  the  chariot  of  Pharaoh, 
and  all  the  people  bowed  down  to  him ;  and  he 
loved  to  recall  him,  as  he  stood  before  his  brethren ; 
in  regal  splendor,  and  cried,  "  I  am  Joseph."  He 
gleaned  with  Ruth  in  the  field  of  her  kinsman, 
and  loved  the  queenly  Esther,  who  so  strongly 
loved  her  people.  He  saw  the  good  old  Noah 
building  his  ark  of  gopher  wood,  and  he  beheld  it 
floating  above  the  watery  shroud  of  an  immersed 
world.  It  was  the  Bible  that  first  touched  the 
poetic  heart  of  Leyden,  and  filled  his  aoul  with  an 
unquenchable  thirst  for  knowledge. 

Leyden,  like  almost  every  Scottish  peasant, 
had  his  ancestral  associations  and  traditions.  One 
of  his  progenitors  had  drawn  his  claymore  for  the 
Covenant,  and  had  distinguished  himself  as  a  war- 
rior under  the  flag  which  was  inscribed  with  the 
names  of  "  Gideon  and  the  Lord ;"  and  personal  as 
well  as  natural  motives  induced  the  boy  to  learn 


88  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

with  avidity  the  wild  tales  of  Scotland's  most 
woful  times.  His  mother,  too,  was  Isabella  Scott, 
of  one  of  the  most  famous  border  clans ;  and  thus  to 
the  enthusiastic,  fair-haired,  rustic,  wondering  boy, 
the  ballads  and  traditions  of  Teviotdale  were  pro- 
creant  with  familiar  and  personal  illusions.  lie 
was  a  Borderer  by  birth  and  in  heart,  and  a  poet 
and  an  antiquary  from  his  earliest  years.  His 
mind  carried  him  back  from  the  simple  and  honor- 
able, and  most  noble  pastoral  occupation  in  which 
his  father  and  himself  were  engaged,  to  the  times 
of  midnight  foray,  and  chase,  and  battle,  until  he 
completely  identified  himself  with  the  Borderers 
of  old,  and  really  assimilated  his  mind  so  much 
with  theirs,  that  the  eccentric  romantic  habits,  ac- 
quired in  his  unregulated  youth,  characterised  him 
to  the  end  of  his  short  and  eventful  life.  All  the 
fervid,  fierce  nationality  of  one  who  had  often  fol- 
lowed Wallace  and  bled  with  Bruce,  inspired  the 
breast  of  Leyden,  and  all  the  wild  superstitions 
and  majestic  idealities  of  a  mountain  minstrel  as- 
sumed vital  and  real  aspects  in  his  poetic  imagina- 
tion. The  books  which  this  remarkable  youth  dis- 
entombed from  the  ancestral  cobwebs  and  dust  of 
the  neighboring  peasantry's  shelves  were  few,  but 
they  were  such  as  would  minister  to  his  patriotism 
and  wonder.  Selection  was  out  of  the  question. 
Leyden  read  whatever  he  could  lay  his  hands  on, 
and  was  glad  if  he  could  catch  anything,  novel  in  the 
shape  of  print ;  but,  by  one  of  those  fortuitous  co- 
incidences which  serve  to  illustrate  the  law  of 


Leyden  in  search  of  the  "  Arabian  Nights." 


Page  89. 


JOHN   LEYDKN.  89 

affinity,  he  caught  some  stray  volumes  of  the 
"History  of  Scotland,"  the  "Arabian  Nights,"  "Sir 
David  Lindsay's  Poetical  Works,"  "Milton  and 
Chapman's  "  Homer."  His  manner  of  obtaining 
the  "Arabian  Nights"  was  characteristic  of  the 
man.  A  companion  had  informed  him  that  a 
blacksmith's  apprentice,  who  resided  several  miles 
distance,  had  in  his  possession  this  Oriental  treasure, 
and,  his  friend  having  perused  it  described  its  con- 
tents to  Leyden,  the  latter  determined  to  proceed 
to  the  young  votary  of  Tubal-Cain,  and  solicit  a 
perusal  of  the  volume  in  his  presence.  Early  in 
the  morning,  the  peasant  boy  set  off  through  the 
snow  to  present  himself  at  the  smithy-door  and  beg 
a  reading  of  the  book.  At  daybreak  he  was  at  the 
smithy,  but  the  young  smith  had  removed  to  some 
distance  to  a  temporary  job.  Onward  followed 
Leyden,  found  the  object  of  his  pursuit,  humbly 
explained  his  mission,  and  was  refused.  Little, 
however  did  the  blacksmith  know  that  the  unseen 
will  of  the  determined  boy  beside  him  was  superior 
to  his  power  of  refusal.  During  the  whole  day 
Leyden  stood  beside  him,  and  the  smith,  fairly 
conquered  by  his  pertinacity,  gave  him  the  volume 
in  a  present,  with  which,  famished  and  frozen  as  he 
was,  he  returned  home  triumphantly. 

At  eleven  years  of  age,  Leyden  went  to  the 
school  of  Kirktown,  where  he  acquired  a  smatter- 
ing of  Latin,  and  a  faint  knowledge  of  arithmetic. 
He  received  little  help  from  teachers,  and  was  sub- 
jected to  scarcely  any  thing  like  systematic  train 


90  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

ing.  Yet  he  went  vigorously  on,  storing  and  edu- 
cating his  powerful  mind.  His  parents,  observant 
of  his  rare  talents,  at  last  determined  to  devote 
them  to  the  great  end  of  a  Scottish  peasant's 
veneration  and  ambition — the  church.  The  Cam- 
eronian  minister  of  Denholm  taught  him  Latin, 
and  he  privately  acquired  the  rudiments  of  Greek, 
and  in  1790  commenced  his  professional  studies  in 
the  University  of  Edinburgh.  When  Ley  den  ap- 
peared in  the  class-room  of  Professor  Dalzell,  he 
was  dressed  in  humble,  homespun  habiliments,  and 
looked  and  spoke  the  rustic.  When  he  first  rose 
to  recite  his  Greek  exercises,  even  the  worthy  Pro- 
fessor's gravity  was  disturbed  by  the  high,  harsh 
tones  of  his  voice,  and  broadness  of  his  Teviot- 
dale  dialect,  and  the  uncouth  appearance  presented 
by  his  unrestrained  fair  hair,  his  ruddy  face,  and 
humble  garb.  The  Professor  soon  perceived,  how- 
ever, that  the  intellectual  qualities  of  the  youth 
were  superior  to  those  of  his  raiment,  and  his  fel- 
low-students also  discovered  that,  if  they  dared  to 
play  with  him,  he,  too,  dared  to  match  his  home- 
spun-covered arm  with  the  best  of  theirs  in  Eng- 
land's best  broad  cloth. 

Now  at  the  fountain-head  of  learning,  the  peas- 
ant Leyden  was  not  long  before  he  proved  that  he 
could  labor  as  diligently  with  the  mind  as  his 
ancestors  had  done  with  ploughshare  and  shep- 
herd's crook.  He  attended  all  the  lectures  which 
it  was  possible  for  him  to  attend,  and,  in  addition 
to  perfecting  himself  in  his  classical  studies,  he 


JOHN    LEYDEN.  91 

acquired  French,  Spanish,  Italian,  and  German, 
and  was  familiar  with  the  ancient  Icelandic,  as 
well  as  Hebrew,  Arabic,  and  Persian.  He  soon 
became  particularly  distinguished  as  a  linguist ; 
nevertheless,  he  mauitained  a  respectable  repu- 
tation in  every  department  of  science.  Ethics, 
mathematics,  natural  philosophy,  natural  history, 
botany,  chemistry,  and  mineralogy,  were  not  un- 
known to  him  ;  and  in  astrology,  demonology,  and 
antiquities,  he  was  peculiarly  excellent. 

During  the  college  vacations,  Ley  den  studied 
and  experimented  in  the  little  church  of  Cavers ; 
and  as  he  became  known  to  the  lord  of  the  manor 
as  a  student,  he  was  admitted  sometimes  to  the 
privilege  of  his  Ubrary.  In  the  country,  the  peas- 
ant-student might  be  said  to  live  in  himself.  There 
were  many  with  kindred  sympathies,  but  none  of 
his  class  with  any  thing  like  kindred  capacities  of 
expression.  They  felt,  but  they  had  not  developed 
nor  nursed  their  feelings  to  the  same  extent  as 
Leyden;  and  so  he  lived  in  a  silent  dreamland. 
In  Edinburgh,  however,  he  had  Thomas  Campbell 
with  whom  to  poetise ;  Alexander  Murray,  his 
companion  in  the  pursuit  of  Oriental  literature ; 
Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  the  precocious  philosopher, 
and  many  other  young  men  of  distinguished  abil- 
ity, were  his  associates. 

In  1796,  John  Leyden  obtained  the  situation  of 
private  tutor  to  the  sons  of  Mr.  Campbell,  of  Fair- 
field, with  whom  he  remained  two  or  three  years. 
Dui'ing  the  winter  of  1798,  he  attended  to  the 


94:  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

and  romance,  rendering  them  most  suitable  com- 
panions, and  their  mutual  goodness  and  warmth, 
of  heart  constituting  them  cordial  friends. 

The  manners  of  Leyden  were  never  modified  by 
his  communion  with  the  most  conventional  society. 
He  was  still  the  rustic,  open,  bold,  uncouth,  free, 
but  simple  John  Leyden,  even  when  he  walked  the 
drawing-rooms  of  the  wealthy,  receiving  the  hom- 
age due  to  his  genius  and  acquirements.  The  per- 
sonal appearance  of  Leyden  —  that  is,  not  the 
raiment  but  the  man — was  rather  interesting.  His 
cheeks  were  clear  and  ruddy,  his  hair  brown,  and 
his  eyes  dark  and  lively.  His  temperament  was 
one  of  the  most  sanguine ;  at  the  same  time  his 
features  were  handsome,  and  full  of  life  and  intel- 
ligence. His  person  was  of  common  stature, 
rather  sparingly  than  athletically  formed  ;  but  his 
wiry  muscles  and  agile  limbs  were  well  adapted  to 
those  athletic  exercises  in  which  he  loved  to  excel, 
even  more  than  in  the  arena  of  scholastic  compe- 
tition. It  is  a  curious  reflection  in  the  biography 
of  one  so  gifted,  that  he  was  as  emulous  of  being 
considered  an  excellent  boxer,  leaper,  wrestler, 
and  runner,  as  a  scholar,  and  that  he  risked  his  life 
on  more  than  one  occasion  in  order  to  demonstrate 
his  agility.  The  ideal  of  bold  and  manly  independ- 
ence which  Leyden  had  formed  in  his  youth,  he 
maintained  in  all  circumstances.  He  was  proud 
of  his  humble  origin  rather  than  ashamed  of  it ; 
he  knew  that  his  own  intrinsic  merits  alone  had 
brought   him    into    communion    with    richer   and 


JOHN   LEYDEN.  95 

better-bred  people  than  himself,  and  he  could  not 
fail  to  discover  that  he  met  none  his  superior  in 
attainments  and  talents,  and  from  this  sense  may 
have  sprung  his  carelessness  in  conventional  forms. 
He  never  took  offence,  however,  at  decent  criti- 
cisms upon  his  manners,  and  rather  encouraged  by 
his  jocularity  than  suppressed  the  raillery  directed 
against  his  roughness.  To  the  glory  and  honor 
of  the  humble  but  gifted  student  be  it  recorded, 
that  his  moral  character  was  above  the  breath  of 
suspicion.  He  was  deeply  impressed  with  the 
principles  of  morality  inculcated  in  the  sacred 
oracles  of  God,  and  he  maintained  them  untainted 
through  life. 

In  1800,  John  Leyden  became  a  licentiate  of  the 
Church  of  Scotland,  and  preached  in  several  of  the 
city  churches.  In  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  he 
accompanied  two  young  foreigners  on  the  tour  of 
the  Hebrides  and  Highlands,  and  made  many  in- 
vestigations uito  Highland  traditions  and  manners ; 
the  only  record  of  this  tour  extant,  however,  is  his 
beautiful  poem  of  the  "Mermaid,"  published  in  the 
"  Border  Minstrelsy."  In  1 801,  Leyden  furnished 
the  ballad  called  the  "  Elf-King"  to  Lewis'  "  Tales 
of  Wonder ;"  and  in  the  following  year  he  devoted 
himself  with  uncoimnon  enthusiasm  to  the  pro- 
curing of  materials  for  the  "  Minstrelsy  of  the 
Scottish  Border;"  relative  to  which  pursuit  Sir 
Walter  Scott  records  the  following  anecdote  as  an 
instance  of  his  zeal :  "An  interesting  fragment  had 
been  obtained  of  an  ancient  historical  ballad,  but 


96  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

the  remainder,  to  the  great  disturbance  of  the 
editor  and  his  coadjutor,  could  not  be  recovered. 
Two  days  afterward,  Avhile  Scott  was  sitting  with 
some  comj^any  after  dinner,  a  sound  was  heard  at 
a  distance,  like  that  of  the  whistling  of  a  tempest 
through  the  torn  rigging  of  a  vessel  that  scuds  be- 
fore it.  The  sounds  increased  as  they  approached 
more  near ;  and  Leyden  (to  the  great  astonishment 
of  such  of  the  guests  as  did  not  know  him)  burst 
into  the  room,  chanting  the  desiderated  ballad  with 
the  most  enthusiastic  gestures  and  all  the  energy  of 
the  sawtones  of  his  voice.  It  turned  out  that  he 
walked  between  forty  and  fifty  miles  and  back 
again,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  visiting  an  old  person 
who  possessed  this  precious  remnant  of  antiquity." 
It  was  Leyden  who  supplied  the  essentials  for  the 
"  Dissertation  on  Fairy  Superstition,"  in  the  "  Min- 
strelsy of  the  Scottish  Border  ;"  and  he  is  also  the 
author  of  the  ballads,  "  Lord  Soulis"  and  the  "  Cout 
of  Keildar."  In  1801,  he  edited  a  curious  old  work 
o/ uncertain  origin,  and  date  1548,  called  the  "  Com- 
playnt  of  Scotland,"  the  preliminary  remarks  on 
which  are  full  of  the  most  curious  information.  In 
1802,  Leyden  became  editor  of  the  "Scots  Maga- 
zine, of  w^hich  Constable  was  pubhsher,  and  con- 
tinued in  this  situation  five  or  six  months,  contrib- 
uting several  pieces  of  poetry  and  prose ;  and  in 
this  year  he  wrote  his  "  Scenes  of  Infancy." 

The  restless,  imaginative  mind  of  Leyden,  ever 
living  in  a  region  ol  wonders,  and  laughing  at  the 
obstacles  and  dangers  of  the  most  desperate  enter- 


JOHN   LEYDEN.  97 

prises,  could  find  no  rest  for  itself  in  the  quiet, 
passive  tenor  of  Scottish  clerical  life;  and  in 
1802  he  had  made  overtures  to  the  African 
Society  to  pursue  those  African  researches  so 
hopefully  begun  and  so  fatally  terminated  by 
Mungo  Park.  His  friends,  in  order  to  divert  him 
from  this  suicidal  project,  applied  to  Government 
for  some  situation  that  would  enable  him  to  gratify 
his  longing  for  the  means  of  making  researches 
into  Oriental  Uterature.  There  was  no  situation 
open  in  the  Indian  Department  but  that  of  sur- 
geon's assistant,  which  could  only  be  held  by  a 
person  who  had  a  surgical  degree,  and  who  could 
sustain  an  examination  before  the  Medical  Board. 
In  the  incredibly  short  space  of  six  months,  John 
Leyden  had  added  to  his  clerical  license  the  diplo- 
ma of  surgeon,  and  was  summoned  to  join  the 
Christmas  fleet  of  Indiamen,  having  been  appointed 
assistant-surgeon  on  the  Madras  establishment. 
Of  course  it  was  understood  that  his  rare  talents 
were  to  be  devoted  to  pursuits  similar  to  those  of 
Sir  WilHam  Jones,  whom  he  soon  hoped  to  surpass 
in  Oriental  erudition. 

In  1803,  he  arrived  at  Madras,  and  was  imme- 
diately transferred  to  a  situation  promising  every 
opportunity  of  gratifying  the  main  object  of  his 
expatriation ;  but,  alas !  the  climate  of  India  was 
uncongenial  to  the  health  of  the  Scottish  Borderer, 
and  the  sturdy  and  hardy  descendant  of  midnight 
rievers,  who  would  have  scorned  to  yield  to  moun- 
tain's mist  or  snow,  succumbed  to  the  fever-breed- 
T 


98  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

ing  malaria  of  Madras.  He  was  constrained  to 
leave  this  station  for  Piince  of  Wales'  Island,  in 
order  to  restore  his  wasted  strength. 

While  at  Puloo  Penang,  where  he  partially  re- 
covered, he  made  some  curious  and  valuable  re-'' 
searches  concerning  the  language,  literature,  and 
descent  of  the  Indo-Chinese  tribes,  which  he  laid 
before  the  Asiatic  Society  at  Calcutta,  whither  he 
repaired  in  1806.  The  health  of  Dr.  Ley  den  did 
not  succumb  so  much  to  climate,  perhaps,  as  to  his 
own  irrepressible  and  inordinate  activity.  '•''lean- 
not  be  idleP''  he  exclaimed,  when  told  by  his  phy- 
sician that  he  must  rest  or  die ;  "  whether  I  die  or 
live,  the  wheel  must  go  round  till  the  last;"  and 
so  under  the  depression  of  fever  and  liver  complaint 
he  studied  ten  hours  a-day. 

Sir  John  Malcolm,  governor  of  Calcutta,  a  coun- 
tryman of  his  own,  relates  the  following  anecdote 
of  him  on  his  landing  in  the  chief  city  of  Bengal. 
"  When  he  arrived  at  Calcutta,  in  1805,"  says  Sir 
John,  "I  was  most  solicitous  regarding  his  recep- 
tion in  the  society  of  the  Indian  capital.  'I  en- 
treat you,  my  dear  friend,'  I  said  to  him,  on  the 
day  he  landed,  'to  be  careful  of  the  impression  you 
make  on  entering  this  community ;  try  to  learn  a 
little  English,  and  do  be  silent  on  literary  subjects 
except  among  literary  men.'  '  Learn  English !'  ho 
exclaimed,  'no,  never;  it  was  trying  to  learn  that 
language  that  spoilt  my  Scotch;  and  as  to  being 
silent,  I  will  promise  to  hold  my  tongue  if  you  will 
make  fools  hold  theirs." 


JOHN   LETDEN.  99 

Leyden  was  appointed  a  Professor  of  the  College 
of  Bengal ;  and  shortly  after  he  exchanged  this 
situation  for  the  judgeship  of  the  twenty -four 
purgunnahs  of  Calcutta.  His  duties  in  this  capaci- 
ty were  partly  military  and  partly  judicial,  and 
brought  him  in  contact  very  much  with  the  na- 
tives, whose  language  and  habits  he  well  under- 
stood. Ilis  whole  emoluments  were  expended 
upon  the  purchase  of  Oriental  manuscripts  and  the 
employment  of  native  teachers,  under  whom  he 
studied  night  and  day,  to  the  total  engrossment  of 
all  his  spare  time  and  the  detriment  of  his  health. 

Dr.  Leyden  accompanied  the  British  expedition 
to  Java  in  1811,  high  in  the  hope  of  adding  to  his 
literary  stores,  but  death  swept  him  away  three 
days  before  the  reduction  of  the  island.  He  died 
on  the  28th  of  August,  1811,  not  thirty-six  years 
of  age.  His  death  was  an  irreparable  loss  to  liter- 
ature and  to  his  friends,  and  a  sad  visitation  to  his 
parents  and  country.  Consumed  by  the  ardor  of 
his  genius  and  of  his  devotion  to  the  pursuit  of 
knowledge,  he  laid  down  his  life  before  lie  had 
seen  the  meridian  of  manhood,  and 

"  A  distant  and  a  deadly  shore 
Has  Leyden's  cold  remains." 


JAMES   MOISTTGOMEEY, 

POET  AND  EDITOE. 

James  Montgomery  was  born  at  Irvine,  in 
Scotland  in  the  county  of  Ayr,  on  the  4th  of  No- 
vember, 1771 ;  just  at  the  time  when  Robert 
Burns — a  boy  in  his  thirteenth  year — might  be 
roving  on  the  banks  of  the  Doon,  a  little  to  the 
southward,  in  the  same  county.  His  father  was, 
we  understand,  a  Moravian  minister.  When  he 
was  still  a  very  young  child — three  years  and  a 
half  years  old — ^his  parents  removed  to  Ireland; 
whence,  in  1777,  he  was  sent  to  the  seminary  of 
Fulneck,  in  Leeds.  Here  he  remained  till  1787, 
and  then  took  his  departure  to  Mirfield,  near  Wake- 
field. By  this  time  the  features  of  the  man  were 
beginning  to  show  themselves  very  distinctly  in 
the  boy ;  he  found  the  duties  of  "  a  small  retail 
concern,"  in  which  for  nearly  two  years  he  had 
employment,  by  no  means  so  congenial  as  the 
penning  of  verses  ;  and  finally,  bursting  the  small 
bonds  which  confined  him,  he  struck  out,  in  the 
fearlessness  of  boyish  ignorance,  into  the  great  sea 
of  literary  adventure.  In  1790,  we  find  him  located 


JAMES   MONtGOMEfeY.'  iOl' 

with  a  bookseller  in  Paternoster  Row,  London, 
having  at  length  found  something  like  a  kindly- 
resting-place  for  the  sole  of  his  foot.  In  London, 
however,  he  did  not  rest,  and  in  1792  he  took  up 
his  abode  in  Sheffield,  which  continued  to  be  his 
residence  until  his  death.  He  supported  himself 
by  literary  exertion,  contributing  to  the  "Sheffield 
Register."  Li  1794,  he  entered  upon  more  regular 
and  important  duties.  In  July  of  that  year,  the 
"  Iris"  was  published,  under  the  joint  management 
of  Mr.  Montgomery  and  Mr.  Gales.  The  latter 
shortly  withdrew,  and  left  his  youthful  coadjutor 
to  the  whole  toil  and  risk  of  the  undertaking. 
This  brings  us  to  an  important  and  interesting  part 
of  Mr.  Montgomery's  career. 

It  was  the  period  of  the  French  Revolution ; 
intense  excitement  pervaded  all  parties ;  prosecu- 
tions for  sedition,  or  the  appearance  of  sedition, 
were  then  common.  The  government  was  thrown 
into  tremulous  perturbation  by  the  slightest  ap- 
pearance of  commotion,  and  was  prepared  to  visit 
with  severe  penalties  the  slightest  appearance  of 
disaffection.  In  the  present  day  we  experience  a 
difficulty  in  imagining  the  watchful  solicitude  with 
which  those  who  held  the  reins  of  power  in  the 
beginning  of  the  French  war  looked  upon  men 
who  were  liberal  in  their  opinions,  or  who  could 
think  without  abhorrence  of  French  politics.  James 
Montgomery  shared  with  almost  all  ardent  and 
enthusiastic  young  men  of  the  time,  a  predilection 
for  liberal  sentiments.     To  use  his  own  phrase, 


102 


FAMOUS    BOYS. 


every  pulse  of  his  heart  was  beating  in  favor  of 
the  popular  doctrines.  His  position,  too,  was  sing- 
ularly adapted  to  arm  against  him  the  rigors  of 
those  in  power.  Mr.  Gales,  of  the  "Sheffield 
Register,"  with  whom  he  was  at  first  associated 
in  the  management  of  the  "  Iris,"  was  very  ob- 
noxious to  government,  and  the  accumulated  ha- 
tred which  had  been  entertained  for  the  senior 
partner  was  transferred,  apparently  with  handsome 
interest,  to  the  junior.  He  was  in  fact  pitched 
upon  as  the  scape-goat  to  bear  much.  When  the 
wolf  has  his  eye  on  the  Iamb,  the  most  inexpug- 
nable syllogisms  on  the  part  of  the  fated  victim 
are  found  ineffective.  "  If  you  are  iimocent,  your 
partner  is  guilty,  and  it  is  all  one,"  was,  in  effect, 
the  language  of  the  government  in  prosecuting 
Mr.  Montgomery.  The  proximate  circumstances 
of  his  arrest  and  conviction  are  worth  relating ; 
they  give  us  a  slight  but  clear  glance  into  the 
time. 

Mr.  Gales,  during  the  time  of  his  connection 
with  that  printing-office  which  ultimately  became 
Mr.  Montgomery's,  had  an  apprentice  concerning 
whom  two  fects  are  known :  the  first  is,  that  his 
name  was  Jack ;  the  second,  that  ho,  on  one  oc- 
casion, being  of  patriotic  temper,  set  up  types  in 
the  office,  for  the  printing  of  a  certain  song — the 
composition  of  Mr.  Scott,  of  Dromore — in  jubi- 
lant commemoration  of  the  destruction  of  the  Bas- 
tille. ■  It  had  been  composed  in  1792,  and  alluded, 
in  denunciatory  patriotic  tone,  to  the  invasion  of 


JAMES    M0NTG0MB3JY.  103 

France  by  the  Austrians  and  Prussians  under 
Brunswick.  The  types  set  up  by  Jack  were  not 
taken  down  by  that  personage,  but  remained 
standing  in  the  office  until  Mr.  Montgomery  be- 
came sole  editor ;  the  precise  date  of  Jack's  oper- 
ations is  uncertain.  About  a  month  after  the  com- 
mencement of  Mr.  Montgomery's  connection  with 
the  "Iris,"  a  ballad-seller  happened  to  pass  the 
office-door;  a  printer  in  the  establishment,  hear- 
ing the  proclamation  of  the  wares,  was  attracted 
by  its  being  in  the  voice  of  an  old  acquaintance ; 
he  called  him  in,  and,  by  way  of  civility,  he  point- 
ed out  to  him  Jack's  songs,  with  the  suggestion 
that  they  might  enable  him  to  turn  a  penny.  The 
suggestion  was  adopted,  and  the  ballad-seller  came 
to  an  arrangement  with  Mr.  Montgomery,  to  whom 
the  printer  referred  him,  for  a  certain  number  of 
copies.  The  copies  were  duly  received  and  paid 
for.  "Two  months  afterward,"  in  Mr.  Montgom- 
ery's words,  "  one  of  the  town  constables  waited 
upon  me,  and  very  civilly  requested  that  I  would 
call  upon  him  at  his  residence  in  the  adjoining 
street.  Accordingly  I  went  thither,  and  asked 
him  for  what  purpose  he  wanted  to  see  me.  He 
then  produced  a  magistrate's  warrant,  charging 
me  with  having,  on  the  16th  day  of  August  pre- 
ceding, printed  and  published  a  certain  seditious 
libel  respecting  the  war  then  raging  between  his 
Majesty  and  the  French  government,  entitled  '  A 
Patriotic  Song,  by  a  clergyman  of  Belfast.'  I  was 
quite  puzzled  to  comprehend  to  what  production 


104  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

from  my  press  the  charge  alluded,  not  the  remotest 
idea  of  the  ballad-seller  occurring  to  me  at  the  mo- 
ment. Accordingly,  I  expressed  my  ignorance, 
and  begged  to  see  the  paper  that  contained  the 
libel.  He  then  showed  me  a  copy  of  the  song 
which  I  had  allowed  to  be  printed,  as  aforemen- 
tioned, at  the  request  of  a  hawker  whom  I  had 
never  seen  before  nor  since.  I  said  immediately, 
'  I  recollect  that  very  well ;  but  this  song  cannot 
be  a  libel  on  the  present  war,  because  it  was  pub- 
lished, to  my  knowledge,  long  before  hostilities 
between  England  and  France  began  in  1793,  hav- 
ing been  composed  for  an  anniversary  celebration 
of  the  destruction  of  the  Bastille,  and  referring 
solely  to  the  invasion  of  France  by  the  Austrian 
and  Prussian  armies  under  the  Duke  of  Brunswick, 
in  July,  1792.'  That,  however,  was  a  question  not 
to  be  settled  between  the  constable  and  me.  The 
former,  on  further  inquiry,  told  me  that  on  the 
16th  of  August,  as  he  was  going  down  the  High 
Street,  he  observed  the  aforesaid  ballad-monger, 
and  heard  him  crying,  '  Straws  to  sell !'  As  it  was 
his  business  to  look  after  vagrants,  he  went  up  to 
the  man  and  bought  a  straw  from  him,  for  which 
he  paid  a  half-penny ;  but,  complaining  that  it  was 
a  dear  bargain,  the  other  gave  him  one  of  these 
songs  to  boot.  On  looking  at  the  contents,  he 
thought  there  was  something  not  right  about  them, 
or  the  manner  of  their  disposal.  Hereupon  he  told 
the  chapman  that  he  would  be  a  wholesale  cus- 
tomer, and  take  both  himself  and  his  stock  into 


JAMES    MONTGOMEIJY.  105 

safe  Ivcepiiig.  The  prisoner,  terrified  at  the  thought 
of  going  to  jail,  immediately  informed  him  how, 
where,  and  from  whom  he  had  got  the  papers. 
He  then  took  him  before  a  magistrate,  who,  on 
hearing  the  case,  committed  the  culprit  to  Wake- 
field House  of  Correction  as  a  vagrant,  where  he 
had  been  detained  till  the  West  Riding  sessions, 
on  the  16th  of  October,  the  day  on  which  it  had 
been  deemed  expedient  to  arrest  me  as  the  princi- 
pal in  the  afiTair.  All  this  was  news  to  me,  and 
quite  as  unwelcome  as  it  was  amusing  and  instruc- 
tive. The  trick  of  selling  a  straw,  and  giving 
something  not  worth  one  with  it,  was  a  lesson 
which,  having  never  learned  before,  certainly  re- 
duced to  the  amount  of  its  value,  the  vast  stock  of 
ignorance  of  the  world  with  which  I  had  set  oirt 
in  it ;  which,  however,  was  otherwise  so  rapidly 
diminishing  by  my  daily  experience,  that  I  had  a 
fair  prospect  of  becoming,  within  a  reasonable 
time,  as  wise  in  my  generation  as  the  people  with 
whom  I  had  to  deal  then  and  in  the  sequel." 

This  august  and  momentous  matter — which, 
among  other  imposing  results,  furnished  some  re- 
spectable solicitor  with  a  bill  of  costs,  afforded 
occasion  for  the  display  of  much  forensic  and 
oratorical  ability,  learned  gentlemen  perorating 
for  more  than  five  hours.  All  this  eloquence  has 
happily  passed  into  its  final  repose,  but  its  result 
was,  that  Mr.  Montgomery  was  sentenced  to  "  three 
months'  imprisonment  in  the  castle  of  York,  and  a 
fine  of  twenty  pounds."     This  was  not  the  last 


106  FAMOUS    130YS. 

time  Mr.  Montgomery  experienced  the  eifl^^ts  of 
that  hatred  with  which  he  was  regarded  hy  the 
pubhc  authorities.  Within  a  sliort  perioll  after 
his  first  incarceration,  he  was  again  brought  to 
trial,  and  sentenced  to  six  months'  imprisonment 
in  York  Castle,  to  pay  a  fine  of  thirty  pounds  to 
the  king,  and  to  give  security  to  keep  the  peace 
for  two  years.  This  time,  if  not  equity,  there  was 
at  least  law  on  the  side  of  the  prosecution,  and 
Mr.  Montgomery  expresses  himself  as  on  the  w^hole 
satisfied. 

For  no  less  a  period  than  nine  months,  then, 
within  a  year  and  a.  half,  was  James  Montgomery 
the  inmate  of  a  prison.  It  did  not  break  his  heart ; 
and  in  two  epistles  to  a  friend,  published  under 
the  inviting  title  of  "  The  Pleasures  of  Imprison- 
ment," he  gives  a  graphic,  interesting,  and  hearty 
account  of  his  daily  proceedings.  An  extract 
from  this  clever  Jeu  cfesprit  cannot  fail  to  interest 
readers ;  it  is  a  good  instance  of  a  brave  hpart 
looking  a  sour  fortune  resolutely  in  the  face : 

"  Sometimes  to  fairyland  I  rove ; 
Those  iron  rails  become  a  grove ; 
These  stately  buildings  fall  away 
To  moss-grown  cottages  of  clay  ; 
Debtors  are  changed  to  jolly  swains, 
Who  pipe  and  whistle  on  the  plains ; 
Yon  felons  grim,  with  fetters  bound, 
Are  satyrs  wild  with  garlands  crown'd; 
Their  clanking  chains  are  wreaths  of  flowers; 
Their  horrid  cells  ambrosial  bowers ; 
The  oaths,  expiring  on  their  tongues, 


JAMES   MONTGOMEEY.  107 

Are  metamorphosed  into  song:s ; 
While  wretched  female  prisoners,  lol 
Are  Dian's  nymphs  of  virgin  snow. 
Those  hideous  walls  with  verdure  shoot ; 
These  pillars  bend  with  blushing  fruit; 
That  dunghill  swells  into  a  mountain  ; 
The  pump  becomes  a  purling  fountain  ; 
The  noisome  smoke  of  yonder  mills 
The  circling  air  with  fragrance  fills  ; 
This  horse-pond  spreads  into  a  lake, 
And  swans  of  ducks  and  geese  I  make; 
Sparrows  are  changed  to  turtle-doves, 
That  bill  and  coo  their  pretty  loves ; 
Wagtails,  turned  thrushes,  charm  the  vales. 
And  tomtits  sing  like  nightmgales. 
No  more  the  wind  through  keyholes  whistles, 
But  sighs  on  beds  of  pinks  and  thistles; 
The  rattling  rain,  that  beats  without, 
And  gurgles  down  the  leaden  spout, 
In  light  delicious  dew  distils, 
And  melts  away  in  amber  rills; 
Elysium  rises  on  the  green, 
,     And  health  and  l^eauty  crown  the  scene." 

"  Rex  V.  Montgomery"  appears  not  to  have  had 
a  very  effective  victory;  the  young  heart  shows 
no  symptom  of  breakage.  Prisons,  m  fact,  seem 
to  have  no  terrors  fit  to  tame  the  energy  or  re- 
strain the  flights  of  genius. 

In  the  summer  of  1796,  Mr.  Montgomery  Avas 
finally  released  from  prison,  and  re-commenced  his 
editorial  functions. 

In  the  history  of  Mr.  Montgomery  we  cannot 
fail  being  much  struck  with  the  elastic  irrepressible 
strength  of  his  nature.     Scorning  the  confinement 


108  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

of  a  "  small  retail  concern,"  he  burst  its  bonds  in 
early  boyhood,  impelled  by  the  half-conscious 
power  which  lay  within  him,  and  lured  by  the 
shadowy  air-castles  of  fame  to  which  young  Hope 
so  confidently  pointed  in  the  distance.  The  pal- 
aces, which  looked  so  fair  and  so  easy  of  access, 
of  course  dissolved  on  approach,  and  left  the 
young  struggler  on  the  arid  sand.  But  he  flinched 
not ;  he  fought  on ;  and,  in  a  period  which  may  be 
considered  remarkably  short,  he  cleared  his  way  to 
an  honorable  standing-point.  Then  he  was  thrown 
into  prison ;  surely  that  would  daunt  the  young 
enthusiast.  It  did  not  daunt  him.  He  had  his 
dog  "  Billy,"  4;he  kindest  of  four-footed  friends ; 
and  there  was  "  Ralph" — 

"  A  raven  grim,  in  black  and  blue, 
As  arch  a  knave  as  e'er  you  knew; 
Who  hops  about  with  broken  pinions, 
And  thinks  these  walls  his  own  dominions. 
This  wag  a  mortal  foe  to  Bill  is ; 
They  fight  like  Hector  and  Achilles." 

Besides  all  which,  his  fancy  could  at  any  moment 
convert  the  felons  into  satyrs,  and  the  felonesses 
into  Dian's  nymphs  of  virgin  snow.  So  that,  on 
the  w^hole,  it  was  found  a  matter  of  extreme  diffi- 
culty to  break  his  spirit  ;  and,  finally,  it  was 
deemed  wisest  to  abandon  the  attempt.  At  first 
there  was  "  exultation"  over  his  "  fidl ;"  but,  when 
it  was  found  that  the  exultation  had  to  feed  itself 
on  "  Prison  Amusements"  and  the  like,  it  subsided 


JAMES   MONTGK)MEEY.  109 

into  a  low  moan,  and  finally  ceased.  "  They  were 
mistaken,"  says  Montgomery,  with  pardonable 
pride,  "and  so  soon,  as  well  as  so  thoroughly, 
were  they  convinced  of  their  mistake,  that  from 
that  day  I  do  not  remember  I  ever  again  ex- 
perienced any  annoyance  from  one  of  them.  Twice, 
indeed,  in  later  years,  I  was  menaced  with  legal 
visitation  from  persons  who  did  not  avow  them- 
selves openly,  but  who,  when  they  might  have 
fought,  exercised  'the  best  part  of  valor,'  and  in 
their  'discretion'  let  me  alone."  Whether  let 
alone  or  not,  Mr.  Montgomery  put  his  arm  to  the 
wheel  with  determined  energy;  and,  gradually 
quelling  all  appearance  of  opposition,  he  went  on 
with  an  ever-widening  circle  of  friendship  and 
fame,  until  he  became  an  object  of  pride  and 
respect  to  his  townsmen. 

In  1825,  he  withdrew  from  the  discharge  of 
editorial  functions  in  connection  with  the  "  Iris," 
and  on  that  occasion  he  issued  a  farewell  address 
to  his  readers,  from  which  we  quote  the  following 
general  glance  at  his  mode  of  conducting  the 
journal ;  it  is  the  honest,  plain-spoken  declaration 
of  an  upright  man,  free  alike  from  the  blustering 
pretension  of  conceit,  and  the  affected  modesty 
of  sentimental  self-depreciation : 

"From  the  first  moment  when  I  became  the 
director  of  a  public  journal,  I  took  my  own  ground ; 
I  have  stood  upon  it  through  many  years  of 
changes,  and  I  rest  by  it  this  day,  as  having  afford- 
ed me  a  shelter  through  the  far  greater  portion  of 


110 


FAMOUS    BOYS. 


my  life,  and  yet  offering  me  a  grave  when  I  shall 
no  longer  have  a  part  in  any  thing  done  under  the 
Bun.  And  this  was  my  ground :  a  plain  determin- 
ation— come  wind  or  sun,  come  fire  or  water — to 
do  what  was  right.  I  lay  stress  upon  the  purpose, 
not  on  the  performance ;  for  that  was  the  pole-star 
to  which  my  compass  was  pointed,  though  with 
considerable  variation  of  the  needle ;  for,  through 
characteristic  weakness,  perversity  of  understand- 
ing, or  self-sufficiency,  I  have  often  erred,  failed, 
and  been  overcome  by  temptation  on  the  weari- 
some pilgrimage  through  which  I  have  toiled — 
now  struggling  '  through  the  Slough  of  Despond- 
ency,' then  fighting  with  evil  spirits  in  the  'Valley 
of  Humiliation ;'  more  than  once  escaping  martyr- 
dom from  '  Vanity  Fair ;'  and  once  at  least  (I  will 
not  say  when)  a  prisoner  in  *  Doubting  Castle,' 
under  the  discipline  of  'Giant  Despair.'  Now, 
though  I  am  not  writing  this  address  in  one  of  the 
shepherd's  tents  on  the  '  Delectable  Mountains,' 
yet,  like  Bunyan's  Christian,  I  can  look  back  on  the 
past,  with  all  its  anxieties,  trials,  and  conflicts, 
thankful  that  it  is  past.  Of  the  future  I  have  little 
foresight,  and  I  desire  none  with  respect  to  this 
life,  being  content  that  '  shadows,  clouds,  and 
darkness  dwell  upon  it,'  if  I  yet  may  hope  that 
'  at  evening  time  there  will  be  light.' " 

On  Mr.  Montgomery's  career  after  his  with- 
drawal from  public  life,  it  is  not  necessary  to  dilate. 
A  pension  of  $1,000  per  annum  was  bestowed 
upon  him  by  her  Majesty's  Government — a  very 


JAMES   MONTGOMERY.  Ill 

happy  change,  creditable  to  both  parties,  since 
those  old  days  of  "  Doubting  Castle"  and  "  Prison 
Amusements."  A  brief  survey  of  Mr.  Montgom- 
ery's character  as  a  poet,  will  indicate  the  light 
which  may  be  reflected  from  his  poetic  efforts  and 
the  circumstances  of  their  composition  upon  his 
general  character. 

James  Montgomery  was  an  early  rhymster.  An 
intense  desire  of  fame  possessed  him  in  his  boy- 
hood, and  prompted  his  running  away  from  Ful- 
neck.  With  assiduous  and  unresting  endeavor, 
he  pursued  the  phantom,  and  found  himself  led 
farther  and  farther  into  the  morass.  Fame  would 
not  come,  and  Mr.  Montgomery  sank  from  the  en- 
thusiastic ardors  of  youth  into  moody  dispirit- 
ment,  and  an  almost  total  distrust  of  poetry.  He 
still  had  enough  of  vital  fire  left  to  enable  him  to 
discharge  all  his  office  duties ;  but  the  flights  of  the 
imagination,  and  the  soft  dalliance  of  the  muse, 
had  given  place  to  despondency,  and  something 
very  like  chagrin.  There  had  been,  in  fact,  a 
radical  defect,  a  deep-lying  taint,  m  the  whole 
mental  condition  and  equipment  with  which  he 
commenced.  This  deep-lying  morbidity  in  the 
youthful  bard  took  the  outward  shape  of  a  feverish 
restlessness,  a  sort  of  mania,  which  nothing  but 
fame  could  allay  or  satisfy. 

Mr.  Montgomery,  in  telling  us  of  his  utmost  ab- 
erration, thus  writes: — "The  renown  which  I 
found  to  be  unattainable  at  that  time,  by  legiti- 
mate poetry,  I  resolved  to  secure  by  such  means  as 


112  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

made  many  of  my  contemporaries  notorious.  I 
wrote  verse  in  the  doggerel  strain  of  Peter  Pindar, 
and  prose  sometimes  in  imitation  of  Fielding  and 
Smollett,  and  occasionally  in  the  strange  style  of 
the  German  plays  and  romances  then  in  vogue. 
Effort  after  effort  failed.  A  Providence  of  dis- 
appointment shut  every  door  in  my  face  by  which 
I  attempted  to  force  my  way  to  a  dishonorable 
fame.  Disheartened,  at  length,  with  ill  success,  I 
gave  myself  up  to  indolence  and  apathy,  and  lost 
seven  years  of  that  part  of  my  youth  which  ought 
to  have  been  the  most  active  and  profitable,  in 
alternate  listlessness  and  despondency,  using  no 
further  exertions  in  my  ofiice  affiiirs  than  was  ne- 
cessary to  keep  up  my  credit  under  heavy  pecu- 
niai-y  obligations,  and  gradually,  though  slowly,  to 
liquidate  them." 

*  But  those  seven  years  were  by  no  means  lost. 
Disappointment,  trial,  and  the  experience  of  failure, 
are  a  valuable  discipline  for  any  man.  In  this 
period  of  comparative  rest,  Mr.  Montgomery's 
powers  had  time  to  strengthen,  amplify,  and  set- 
tle ;  his  resolves  became  firmer,  his  energy  more 
enduring,  and  his  whole  manhood  more  fully  devel- 
oped. The  first  wild  herbage  fell  swiftly  into 
decay — ^into  total  forgetfulness  and  dissolution; 
and  lo  !  in  the  fresh  beauty  of  a  second  spring, 
there  arose  upon  its  decayed  masses  a  healthy  and 
umbrageous  foliage.  About  the  year  1803,  Mr. 
Montgomery  once  more  attempted  to  draw  a  strain 
of  true  and  noble  beauty  from  his  almost  forsaken 


JAMES   MONTGOMEUr.  113 

• 

lyre.  He  swept  the  strings  with  a  strength  which 
he  had  never  before  shown,  and  his  courage  re- 
vived as  he  listened  to  the  music.  Besides,  there 
was  no  lack  of  "  applauses,"  and  these  always  ex- 
ercised a  powerful  influence  on  Mr.  Montgomery. 
The  result  was,  that  he  fixed  his  eye  on  the  laurel 
cro\vn  with  a  more  resolute  and  a  nobler  ambition 
than  heretofore  ;  and  on  his  banner,  under  which 
to  conquer  or  to  die,  he  inscribed  the  motto — 
"  Give  me  an  honest  fame,  or  give  me  none." 

Mr.  Montgomery's  manhood  had  now  attained 
its  ultimate  development:  fame  he  ardently  de- 
sired, but  an  honest  fame  it  must  be  ;  and,  girding 
up  his  loins,  he  commenced  a  new  poetic  career. 
"  The  Wanderer  of  Switzerland  and  other  Poems" 
were  published  early  in  1806.  This  small  volume 
met  with  speedy  and  extensive  popularity ;  edition 
upon  edition  being  called  for,  to  the  number  of ' 
thirteen. 

After  this  appears  "  The  West  Indies" — a  poem 
in  four  parts,  in  celebration  of  the  abolition  of 
slavery  in  the  West  Indian  Islands  by  the  British 
legislature — a  subject  on  which  the  author  had 
very  decided  oi:)inions,  and  very  deep  feelings ; 
"The  World  before  the  Flood,"  a  poem  of  a  purely 
imaginative  kind ;  "  Greenland,"  and  "  The  Pelican 
Island  ;"beside  a  large  number  of  smaller  pieces — 
all  of  which  met  with  extensive  popularity. 

Early  inured  to  hardship  and  toil,  Mr.  Mont- 
gomery struggled  long  and  dauntlessly,  until,  at 
an  early  age,  he  attained  an  honorable  and  import- 
8 


114:  FAMOTTS   BOYS. 

ant  station  in  society.  During  the  noontide  of  his 
years,  unallured  into  dreamy  indolence  by  the 
smiles  of  the  Muses,  he  devoted  himself,  with 
manly  energy,  to  the  prosaic  but  honorable  and 
responsible  task  of  conducting  a  newspaper.  He 
pleaded  with  zeal,  and  with  what  honest  insight  he 
possessed,  all  those  great  social  changes  which  met 
his  approval.  Withal,  he  found  time  to  utter 
strains  of  song  which  would  have  been  pointed  to 
with  pride  as  the  whole  work  of  many  a  lifetime, 
which  have  been  such  as  to  spread  his  name  to  the 
ends  of  the  earth,  and  which  have  won  him  a  place 
in  the  homes  and  hearts  of  thousands  among  his 
countrymen. 

Bom  when  the  first  faint  mutterings  which  fore- 
boded the  mighty  thunderbursts  that  closed  the 
last  century  were  just  beginning  to  be  heard,  he 
was  an  ardent  rhyming  youngster  when  Mirabeau 
was  flashing  his  lightnings  over  the  assembled 
French  legislators  in  the  Salle  de  Menus,  and  when 
the  Bastille  was  tottering  before  the  rabid  thou- 
sands of  Paris.  He  was  the  proprietor  and  editor 
of  a  journal  when  Bonaparte  was  wreathing  his 
brows  with  the  diadem  of  Charlemagne,  and  Tous- 
saint  I'Ouverture  was  minutely  mimicking  the 
ceremony  in  Hayti.  He  aided  with  most  strenu- 
ous endeavor  the  cause  of  slave  emancipation,  and 
celebrated  the  consummation  in  song.  He  saw 
the  world  all  join  in  rapturous  applause  of  the 
genius  of  Scott ;  he  witnessed  the  avatar  of  the 
Batanic  and  sentimental  schools ;  he  heard  the  jubU- 


JAMES   MONTGOMERY.  115 

ant  critics  (deeming  their  power  immortal)  laugh 
and  bark  at  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge ;  he  saw 
Europe  sink  into  troubled  slumber  after  the  last 
thunder-peals  of  Waterloo.  He  lived  to  the  time 
of  railways  and  telegraphs,  of  steam-looms  and 
cotton  kings,  of  Californias  and  Bathursts.  He 
saw  Byron  consigned  to  a  mournful  and  too  early 
grave,  and  he  waited  till  Wordsworth  sank  into 
his  rest  like  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe.  Then, 
with  the  snow  of  upward  of  fourscore  winters  on 
his  unclouded  brow,  he  peacefully  and  hopefully 
followed — loved  by  many,  honored  and  respected 
by  all. 


NATHANIEL  BOWDITCH. 

Nathaniel  Bowditch,  the  most  distinguished 
mathematician  of  his  age,  was  born  in  Salem,  Mas- 
sachusetts, on  the  26th  of  March,  1773.  His  an- 
cestors for  several  generations  were  shipmasters, 
but  his  father,  disheartened  at  some  misfortunes 
just  previous  to  the  commencement  of  the  Revo- 
lution, gave  up  his  profession,  and  adopted  the 
trade  of  a  cooper. 

"  At  the  age  of  ten,  young  Bowditch  lost  his 
mother,  to  whose  instruction  he  always  felt  under 
great  obligations.  He  always  spoke  of  her  with 
the  greatest  affection.  She  early  taught  him  to 
love  truth ;  and,  never,  on  any  account,  to  tell  a 
lie.  She  also  inculcated  upon  him  a  reverence  for 
things  sacred.  Before  the  death  of  his  mother, 
he  had  attended  school  for  a  short  time,  and  his 
predilections  for  the  favorite  studies  of  his  mature 
years  begun  early  to  show  themselves.  It  is  stated, 
that  having  with  some  diflSculty  obtained  permis- 
sion from  the  schoolmaster  to  study  arithmetic,  a 
diiRcult  sum  was  given  him,  apparently  for  the 
purpose  of  rebuking  his  too  eager  desire.     He 


NATHANIEL   BOW  DITCH.  117 

took  it  to  his  seat,  nowise  discouraged ;  and  soon, 
having  conquered  the  difficulty,  brought  it  up 
with  a  shining  face  to  the  master.  Instead,  how- 
ever, of  the  approbation  he  expected,  he  was  ac- 
cused of  endeavoring  to  deceive,  by  pretending  to 
have  done  what  another  had  done  for  him.  Nor 
was  he  credited  when  he  asserted  that  he  did  it 
himself;  and  the  impatient  teacher  would  have 
proceeded  to  punish  him,  if  an  elder  brother  had 
not  interfered  and  fortified  the  assertion  of  Na- 
thaniel by  his  own  testunony.  This  circumstance 
— especially  his  being  charged  with  falsehood — 
was  one  of  those  which  Dr.  Bowditch  could  never 
forget." 

When  a  little  more  than  ten  years  of  age,  he 
was  compelled  by  poverty  to  forego  even  the 
benefits  of  this  poor  school,  and  was  placed  as  an 
apprentice  to  a  ship-chandler.  He  now  began  to 
evince  a  decided  taste  for  mathematics ;  he  kept 
his  slate  and  pencil  by  his  side  in  the  shop,  and  in 
every  spare  moment  was  busy  at  his  favorite  pur- 
suit. Frequently  after  the  shop  was  closed,  he 
would  remain  until  nine  or  ten  o'clock  busy  with 
his  books.  Even  his  holidays  were  spent  in  study. 
He  rose  very  early  in  the  morning — a  habit  which 
he  always  retained;  and  he  declared  that  those 
early  hours  gave  him  substantially  his  knowledge 
of  mathematics.  When  he  was  only  fourteen  he 
made  an  almanac;  and  about  this  period  gained 
his  first  knowledge  of  algebra.  Although  a  dili- 
gent student  of  mathematics,  he  did  not  confine 


118  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

his  attention  to  them.  There  was  a  good  Hbraiy 
in  Salem,  which  aiforded  him  an  opportunity  to 
study  many  volumes  which  were  of  the  greatest 
consequence  to  him.  His  employer  abandoning 
business,  he  went  into  the  store  of  Mr.  S.  E.  Ward ; 
his  habits  of  study  went  with  him.  In  order  to 
read  Newton's  Principia,  he  began,  without  an 
instructor,  the  study  of  Latin;  which  he  success- 
fuUy  mastered.  As  he  learned  Latin  in  order  to 
read  one  treatise,  he  learned  French  to  read  an- 
other. Soon  after  entering  the  employment  of 
Mr.  Ward,  his  love  of  science  and  study  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  Hon.  Nathan  Reed,  at  that 
time  an  apothecary,  in  whose  shop  was  a  com- 
panion and  friend  of  Bowditch,  with  whom  he 
used  occasionally  to  spend  his  evenings,  studying 
the  scientific  books  which  he  found  there. 

Dr.  Bowditch  was  not  accustomed  to  think  that 
the  difficulties  he  encountered  in  early  life  really 
retarded  his  progress ;  he  realized  the  truth  that 
those  who  accomplish  any  thing  great  in  the 
world  must  depend  upon  themselves,  and  not 
upon  circumstances.  Necessity  is  a  stern  master, 
but  it  is  probably  the  best.  "  Young  Bowditch 
was  taught  by  it  to  depend  upon  himself,  while 
yet  he  despised  no  assistance  which  he  could  de- 
rive from  others.  Li  overcoming  obstacles,  he 
acquired  an  elasticity  of  spirits,  which  enabled 
him,  as  much  as  any  thing  could,  to  succeed  in 
Btill  greater  undertakings.  'The  successful  ac- 
compUshment  of  the  arduous  task  of  translating 


NATHANIEL   BOWDnCK.  119 

ITiu  "Principia,"  '  says  Mr.  Reed,  'probably  in- 
duced hiin  to  commeuce  the  translation  of  "La 
Place."  '  The  vigor  and  diligence  with  which  he 
applied  himself  to  scientific  pursuits  gained  him 
the  friendship  and  assistance  of  those  who  were 
both  willing  and  able  to  help  him.  Among  these, 
beside  Mr.  Reed,  were  Drs.  Bentley  and  Prince. 
The  Philosophical  Library  was  kept  at  the  house 
of  the  latter  of  these  gentlemen,  who  received  the 
youthful  student  at  all  times  with  the  greatest 
kindness,  and  rendered  him  all  the  assistance  in 
his  i:/Ower. 

"In  1794,  Mr.  Bowditch,  whose  reputation  for 
knowledge  and  fidelity  was  thoroughly  established, 
was  employed,  in  company  with  Mr.  John  Gibaut, 
to  make  a  thorough  survey  of  the  town  of  Salem. 
This  task  was  performed  very  satisfactorily,  and 
with  it  may  be  considered  as  ending  the  first  epoch 
of  his  life.  He  had  now  arrived  at  the  verge  of 
manhood,  with  greater  mathematical  attainments, 
probably,  than  any  one  of  his  age  in  the  State, 
with  a  character  unsullied,  enjoying  the  entire 
confidence  of  his  employers,  and  with  good  pur- 
poses and  resolutions  for  the  future. 

"In  the  year  1795,  he  engaged  to  sail  with  his 
friend  Captain  Gibaut  on  a  voyage  to  the  East 
Indies.  Before  the  vessel  sailed.  Captain  Gibaut 
relinquished  the  command,  and  his  place  was  taken 
by  Captain  Prince.  This  made  no  dilQference  with 
Mr.  Bowditch,  who  sailed  as  clerk.  They  went 
to  the  Isle  of  Bourbon,  where  they  remained  five 


120  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

months,  and  returned  to  Salem  after  exactly  a 
year's  absence.  His  second,  third,  and  fourth  voy- 
ages were  made  with  the  same  captain.  During 
these  voyages,  he  employed  his  leisure  time,  which 
was  considerable,  in  mathematical  studies,  or  in 
learning  such  languages  as  he  thought  would  be 
of  value  to  him,  or  in  profitable  reading.  He 
thus  perfected  himself  in  French,  and  acquired  a 
good  knowledge  of  Italian,  Spanish,  and  Portu- 
guese. It  may  as  well  be  mentioned  here,  that 
his  method  of  learning  a  new  language  was  gen- 
erally to  obtain  a  New  Testament  in  the  language, 
and,  with  the  aid  of  a  dictionary,  to  commence 
immediately  the  work  of  translation.  At  the  age 
of  forty-five,  he  learned  the  German,  for  the  sake 
of  reading  certain  mathematical  works.  His 
library,  at  his  death,  contained  the  New  Testa- 
ment in  more  than  twenty-five  languages,  and  the 
dictionaries  of  a  still  larger  number." 

It  appears  that  he  was  not  only  desirous  to  ac- 
quire knowledge,  but  anxious  to  diffuse  it.  Among 
the  sailors  he  w^as  eminently  popular,  and  made  the 
ship  a  perfect  school  of  learning.  Instead  of  long 
yarns  they  had  recourse  to  slates  tmd  pencils,  and 
their  leisure  was  employed  in  attempts  to  work 
lunar  observations.  Bowditch's  habits  at  this  time 
have  been  very  accurately  described  by  a  com- 
panion : — "  His  practice  was  to  rise  at  an  early 
hour,  and  pursue  his  studies  till  breakfast ;  imme- 
diately after  which  he  walked  rapidly  for  half  an 
hour,  and  then  went  below  to  his  studies  till  half 


NATHAinEL   BOWDITCH.  121 

past  eleven  o'clock,  when  he  returned,  and  walked 
till  the  hour  at  which  he  commenced  his  meridian 
observations.  Then  came  dinner,  after  which  he 
was  engaged  in  his  studies  till  five  o'clock ;  then 
he  walked  till  tea-time,  and  after  tea  was  at  his 
studies  till  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  From  this 
hour  till  half  past  ten  o'clock  he  appeared  to  have 
banished  all  thoughts  of  study,  and  while  walking 
he  would  converse  in  the  most  lively  manner, 
giving  us  useful  information,  intermixed  with 
amusing  anecdotes  and  heai-ty  laughs,  making  the 
time  delightful  to  the  officers  who  walked  with 
him,  and  who  had  to  quicken  their  pace  to  ac- 
company him.  Whenever  the  heavenly  bodies 
were  in  proper  distance  to  get  the  longitude, 
night  or  day,  he  was  sure  to  make  his  observa- 
tions once,  and  frequently  twice  in  every  twenty- 
four  hours,  always  preferring  to  make  them  by 
the  moon  and  stars,  on  account  of  his  eyes.  He 
was  often  seen  on  deck  at  other  times  walking 
rapidly,  and  apparently  in  deep  thought ;  and  it 
was  well  understood  by  all  on  board  that  he  was 
not  to  be  disturbed,  as  we  supposed  he  Avas  solving 
some  difficult  problem ;  and  when  he  darted  be- 
low, the  conclusion  was  that  he  had  got  the  idea. 
If  he  were  in  the  fore  part  of  the  ship  when  the 
idea  came  to  him,  he  would  actually  run  to  the 
cabin,  and  his  countenance  would  give  the  expres- 
sion that  he  had  found  a  prize." 

The  niceties  of  Bowditch's  observations  enabled 
him  to  detect  many  errors  in  the  existing  books  on 


122  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

navigation.  In  1802,  he  published  his  "Practical 
Navigator,"  a  work  of  inestimable  value  to  the 
maritime  world,  and  which  gave  the  author  a 
wide-spread  reputation.  He  now  abandoned  the 
sea  as  a  profession ;  he  had  a  reputation  upon 
which  to  repose,  and  had  been  honored  by  several 
learned  societies.  Harvard  University  had  con- 
ferred upon  him  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts, 
and  he  was  elected  member  of  the  American 
Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences.  By  his  own 
prodigious  exertions  he  had  worked  his  way  up 
into  honorable  recognition  in  the  scientific  world  ; 
his  name  extended  not  only  over  America  but  Eu- 
rope. The  royal  societies  of  Edinburgh,  Dublin, 
London,  Palermo,  and  Berlin,  elected  him  to  hon- 
orary membership  ;  and  m  addition  numerous 
similar  honors  were  conferred  upon  him  by  the 
Korthern  and  Southern  societies  of  his  own  coun- 
try. He  had  contributed  more  practical  benefit 
to  the  science  of  navigation  than  perhaps  any 
dozen  men  before  him.  But  Dr.  Bowditch  (he 
received  the  degree  of  Doctor  from  Harvard  in 
1816)  rests  his  fame  for  scientific  knowledge  upon 
the  translation  of  La  Place's  Mecanique  Celeste^ 
and  the  commentary  with  which  he  accompanied 
it.  This  masterly  production — describing  the 
entire  mechanism  of  the  heavens  on  mathemati- 
cal principles — it  was  his  object  to  reproduce,  sup- 
plying the  deficient  steps  in  the  difficult  demon- 
strations. It  was  a  Herculean  task.  In  almost 
every  page  the  notes  exceeded  the  text,  and  have 


NATHA]^IEL   BOWDITCH.  123 

a  value  almost  equal  to  the  original  matter — a  work 
which  was  the  fruit  of  sixty  years'  incessant  medi- 
tation, surrounded  and  aided  by  all  the  scientific 
men  of  France. 

Dr.  Bowditch  died  in  Boston,  March  1838,  in 
the  sixty-fifth  year  of  his  age.  At  the  news  of  his 
death,  the  flags  were  hoisted  at  half-mast  in  many 
of  our  cities,  and  by  American  vessels,  as  well  as 
by  many  English  and  Russian  in  Cronstadt.  A 
badge  of  mourning  was  adopted  by  the  pupils  of 
the  naval  school  of  the  United  States.  And  thus 
were  honors  conferred  upon  a  poor  ship-boy,  who, 
because  he  was  studious,  zealous,  and  of  sterling 
moral  qualities,  raised  himself  from  his  humble 
position  to  exalted  honors  ! 


IIEIS'EY  HAYELOCK. 

The  sacred  principles  of  Christianity  are  of  uni- 
versal application,  adapted  to  every  profession,  and 
every  condition  of  human  life,  and  capable  of  ac- 
commodating themselves  to  the  various  exigencies 
of  mankind,  amidst  all  the  difficulties  of  the  most 
arduous  duty  or  the  most  perilous  enterprise.  In 
every  possible  circumstance  in  which  man  can  be 
placed,  they  are  calculated  to  dignify  and  to  en- 
noble the  individual  who  lives  and  acts  under 
their  influence.  This  inherent  quality  of  universal 
adaptation — which  may  justly  be  considered  as 
one  of  the  many  striking  evidences  of  the  divine 
origin  of  our  most  holy  faith — has  been  frequently 
exemplified  in  the  history  of  eminent  Christians 
belonging  to  the  profession  of  arms — a  profession, 
the  engagements  and  temptations  of  which  cannot 
be  said  to  be  peculiarly  favorable  to  the  practice 
of  religion.  The  brave  and  heroic  soldier,  whose 
history  we  are  now  to  notice,  affords  an  admirable 
example  of  what  religion  can  effect  amidst  circum- 
stances most  unfavorable  to  its  development. 

Henry  Havelock  was  born  at  Bishop  Wear- 


HENRY    HAVELOCK.  125 

mouth  on  the  5th  of  April,  1795  His  father  was 
descended  from  a  family  who  formerly  resided  at 
Grimsby,  in  Lincolnshire.  He  was  engaged  in 
shipbuilding  and  commerce  at  Sunderland,  but  in 
1799  settled  in  the  county  of  Kent,  where  he  pur- 
chased an  estate  called  Ingress,  near  Dartford. 
After  obtaining  his  earliest  education  at  a  school 
at  Dartford,  Henry  Havelock  was  sent  to  the 
Charterhouse  in  1804,  where,  among  his  school 
companions,  were  several  boys  who  have  since  be- 
come distinguished  in  life.  While  at  the  Charter- 
house he  occupied  a  respectable  place  in  his  class, 
and  although  remarkably  expert  in  all  boyish 
amusements,  he  was  of  a  thoughtful,  meditative 
turn  of  mind.  He  had  been  early  impressed  with 
the  truths  of  religion  by  his  excellent  mother,  who 
was  accustomed  to  assemble  her  children  together, 
in  her  own  apartment,  for  prayer  and  the  study  of 
the  Scriptures.  The  early  impressions  thus  made 
began  to  produce  their  result  at  the  Charterhouse, 
Tvhere  Henry  Havelock  and  several  other  boys — 
afterward  eminent  in  their  respective  professions 
— were  accustomed  to  meet  together  privately  for 
the  purpose  of  reading  sermons  and  conversing 
upon  the  subjects  they  read.  And  that  his  religi- 
ous impressions  must  have  produced  considerable 
effect  in  his  demeanor,  we  may  readily  judge  from 
the  circumstance  that  he  was  subjected  to  no  small 
amount  of  scorn  and  ridicule  from  his  companions, 
who  called  him  "  Methodist,"  and  "  canting  hypo- 
crite ;"  taunts,  however,  which  he  bravely  endured. 


126  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

His  relatives  wished  him  to  adopt  the  law  as  his 
profession ;  and  his  thoughtful,  studious  habits,  ac- 
quired and  fostered  at  the  Charterhouse,  seemed 
to  warrant  their  desire.  He  was  accordingly- 
placed  as  a  pupil  with  an  eminent  barrister,  under 
whose  care  he  entered  on  his  legal  studies.  Prob- 
ably, however,  he  had  no  great  taste  for  the  pro- 
fession, and  his  mother  seemed  to  be  aware  of  this, 
and  to  have  perceived  in  him  manifest  tendencies 
toward  the  profession  of  arms,  in  the  great  interest 
he  took  in  every  thing  relating  to  military  aifairs. 
Her  impression  proved  to  be  correct,  although  she 
did  not  Uve  to  see  it  verified. 

In  1815 — five  years  after  her  death — ^he  re- 
nounced the  law  forever,  and  yielding,  to  use  his 
own  words,  "  to  the  military  propensities  of  his 
race,"  entered  the  army  as  an  oflScer  of  the  Rifle 
Brigade.  "  No  very  active  service  awaited  him 
for  some  time.  '  He  served,'  he  writes,  *  in  Eng- 
land, Ireland,  and  Scotland,  in  the  interval  be- 
tween his  first  nomination  and  the  year  1823, 
traveled  in  France  and  the  north  of  Italy,  read  a 
good  deal  in  a  discursive  way,  and  acquired  some 
knowledge  of  his  profession  which  was  useful  to 
him  in  after  days.'  Again  was  it  his  lot  to  fall  in 
with  men  of  mark,  whose  names  were  to  become 
afterward  illustrious  and  renowned.  '  He  was  sub- 
altern in  the  95th  Rifle  Brigade,  and  the  present 
Sir  Harry  Smith,  the  victor  of  Aliwal,  was  his 
captain.  Some  time  elapsed,  and  he  was  at  length 
induced  to  look  for  an  exchange.     The  augmenta^ 


HENRY  HAVELOCK,  127 

tion  of  the  13th  Light  Infantry  taking  place,  he 
was  transposed  to  that  regiment.  He  embarked 
for  India  in  January,  1823.  It  was  his  own  choice 
to  serve  in  this  part  of  the  world,  and  he  had  fitted 
himself  for  Indian  service  by  studying  Hindos- 
tanee  and  Persian  under  Dr.  Gilchrist,  in  London, 
before  he  left."  The  lieutenant  was  now  at  sea, 
when  an  event  occurred  in  relation  to  what  he 
deemed  '  the  most  important  part  of  the  history 
of  a  man's  life,'  which  he  attributed  most  grate- 
fully to  the  providence  of  a  gracious  God.  For 
years  had  he  known  what  it  was  to  be  anxious 
about  his  soul,  and  also  about  the  performance  of 
the  divine  will.  Life  had  not  been  given  to  him 
to  be  spent  exactly  as  he  pleased.  The  Scriptures 
had  not  been  put  into  his  possession  to  be  set  at 
naught  or  disregarded.  The  Son  of  God  had  not 
died  for  him  in  sacrifice  for  sin,  without  having 
the  strongest  claim  upon  him  for  the  most  grate- 
ful and  responsive  love.  All  this  had  been  at  work 
upon  him  for  years,  with  more  or  less  activity  and 
power ;  and  it  was  at  work  upon  him  when  he  set 
sail  for  India.  His  condition  appears  to  have 
been  that  of  feeling  after  God,  if  happily  he  might 
find  him.  Somewhat  like  his  military  predecessor 
mentioned  in  the  tenth  chapter  of  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  the  centurion  of  the  Italian  band  at 
Caesarea,  Havelock  was  a  devout  man,  and  one 
that  prayed  to  God  alway ;  but  he  needed  more 
instruction  about  the  perfect  freeness  of  salvation, 
or,  at  least,  a  clearer  conception  of  his  own  wel- 


128  FAMOUS    EOYS. 

come  to  the  immediate  participation  of  all  that 
Christ  had  lived  and  died  to  procure.  He  needed, 
in  fact,  very  much  what  Cornelius  needed :  and  in 
his  sovereignty  God  supplied  the  need.  The  set 
time  to  favor  the  devout  inquirer  came.  Thus 
runs  his  account  of  the  blessing  which  was  so 
opportunely  vouchsafed : — '  A  far  more  important 
event,  as  regarded  the  interests  of  the  writer, 
ought  to  have  been  recorded  whilst  narrating  the 
events  of  1823;  for  it  was  while  he  was  sailing 
across  the  wide  Atlantic  toward  Bengal,  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  came  to  him  with  its  offers  of  peace 
and  mandate  of  love,  which,  though  for  some  time 
resisted,  were  received,  and  at  length  prevailed. 
There  was  wrought  that  great  change  in  his  soul 
which  has  been  productive  of  unspeakable  advan- 
tage to  him  in  time,  and  he  trusts  has  secured  him 
happiness  through  eternity.  The  "  General  Kyd," 
in  which  he  was  embarked,  conveyed  to  India 
Major  Sale,  destined  thereafter  to  defend  Jellala- 
bad ;  but  she  also  carried  out  an  humble,  unpre- 
tendhig  man,  James  Gardner,  then  a  lieutenant  in 
the  13th,  now  a  retired  captain,  engaged  in  Home 
Missionary  objects  and  other  works  of  Christian 
benevolence  at  Bath.  This  excellent  person  was 
most  influential  in  leading  Havelock  to  make 
public  avowal,  by  his  works  of  Christianity,  in 
earnest.'  .  .  In  a  narrative  written  by  him  of 
the  occurrences  of  that  time,  he  writes : — *  He  was 
in  garrison  with  his  regiment  at  Fort  William, 
Calcutta,  when,  in  April,  1824,  war  was  declared 


I 


HENBY   HAVELOCK.  129 

against  the  Burmans.  He  was  thereupon  appoint- 
ed to  the  general  staff  of  Sir  Archibald  Campbell 
as  deputy-assistant  adjutant-general  at  head-quar- 
ters. He  proceeded  to  Rangoon,  and  took  part  in 
the  actions  near  it.  Thousands  there  fell  victims 
to  the  climate,  and  his  health  having  been  for  the 
first  time  broken  in  upon  by  an  attack  of  liver 
complaint,  he  was  compelled  to  return,  first  to 
Calcutta,  and  then  to  Bombay  and  the  Deccan.' 
The  change  of  air  and  the  relaxation  had  a  most 
favorable  effect  in  the  restoration  of  his  health. 
'  He  sailed  back  by  Madras  to  Rangoon,  found  the 
army  at  Prome,  and  fought  with  it  at  Napadee, 
Patanago,  and  Pagham-Myo.  On  the  conclusion 
of  the  peace  at  Yandabq,  he  was  associated  with 
Lieutenant-Colonel,  then  Captain,  Lumsden,  of  the 
Bengal  ArtUlery,  and  with  Dr.  Knox,  of  the 
Madras  Army,  in  a  mission  to  the  Burman  capital 
at  Ava,  and  they  had  audience  of  the  monarch.' " 

The  following  interesting  circumstances  are  re- 
lated of  this  Christian  soldier,  which  are  highly 
characteristic  of  the  earnestness  and  sincerity  of 
his  religious  professions: — "During  his  sojourn 
in  Rangoon,  Havelock  kept  up  his  practice  of  as- 
sembling his  men  for  religious  worship  and  in- 
struction. He  was  also  busily  occupied  in  holding 
back  the  soldiers  from  the  excesses  to  which,  in  a 
captui'fed  city  like  Rangoon,  there  were  so  many 
strong  inducements.  Abstemious  himself,  if  not 
altogether  an  abstainer  from  alcoholic  beverages, 
he  went  about  imploring  the  men  to  keep  clear  of 
9 


130  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

intemperance.  *  There  "is  no  such  soldier  in  the 
world,'  he  used  to  say,  '  as  the  English  soldier,  if 
he  can  be  kept  from  drink.'  And,  believing  that 
the  strength  of  Christian  principle  was  the  only 
effectual  safeguard  against  the  evil,  he  labored  to 
bring  it  into  existence  and  operation.  He  would 
warn  and  encourage,  as  best  he  could,  leaving  it 
with  God  to  give  the  blessing.  There  is  in  Ran- 
goon a  famous  heathen  tem23le  devoted  to  the 
service  of  Boodh,  which  is  known  as  The  Magnifi- 
cent Shivey  Dagoon  Pagoda.  It  is  deemed  the 
glory  of  the  city.  Of  a  chamber  in  this  building 
Havelock  obtained  possession  for  his  own  pur- 
poses. All  around  the  chamber  were  smaller 
images  of  Boodh,  in  the  usual  position,  sitting  with 
their  legs  gathered  up  and  crossed,  and  the  hands 
resting  on  the  lap,  in  symbol  and  expression  of 
repose.  No  great  changes  were  necessary  to  pre- 
pare the  place  for  Christian  service.  It  needed  no 
ceremonial  exorcising  to  make  it  fit  either  for 
psalmody  or  prayer.  Abominable  idolatries  had 
been  witnessed  there  beyond  all  doubt,  but  no 
sacerdotal  purifications  were  requisite  ere  adora- 
tion of  the  true  God  could  be  ofiered,  and  service 
vrell-pleasing  to  him,  through  Jesus  Christ.  Have- 
lock remembered  well  that  '  neither  in  this  mount- 
ain nor  yet  at  Jerusalem'  were  men  to  worship  the 
Father  now.  To  the  true  worshipers  any*  place 
might  become  a  place  for  worship.  Even  the 
pagoda  of  Shivey  Dagoon  might  be  none  other 
than  the  house  of  God  and  the  gate  of  heaven. 


HENRY    HAVELOCK.  131 

Accordingly,  it  was  announced  that  that  would  be 
the  place  of  meeting. 

"An  officer  relates  that,  as  he  was  wandering 
round  about  the  pagoda  on  one  occasion,  he  heard 
the  sound,  strange  enough  as  he  thought,  of  sing- 
ing. He  listened,  and  found  that  it  was  certainly 
psalm-singing.  He  determined  to  follow  the  sound 
of  its  source,  and  started  for  the  purpose.  At 
length  he  reached  the  chamber,  and  what  should 
meet  his  eye  but  Havelock,  with  his  Bible  and 
hymn-book  before  him,  and  more  than  a  hundred 
men  seated  around  him  giving  earnest  heed  to  his 
proclamation  to  them  of  the  glad  tidings  of  great 
joy.  How  had  they  got  their  light  by  which  to 
read,  for  the  place  was  in  dark  shade  ?  They  had 
obtained  lamps  for  the  purpose,  and  putting  them 
in  order,  had  lit  them,  and  placed  them  one  by  one 
in  an  idol's  lap.  There  they  were,  those  dumb  but 
significant  lamp-bearers,  in  constant  use ;  and  they 
were  there,  we  may  be  well  assured,  to  suggest 
stirring  thoughts  to  the  lieutenant  and  his  men. 
How  well  the  115th  Psalm  would  be  understood 
there !  How  impressively  some  parts  of  the  1st 
chapter  of  the  Romans  would  be  explained !  How 
earnestly  the  prayer  would  be  offered  that  the 
Burmese  might  be  induced,  through  the  power 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  cast  these  and  all  other  idols 
to  the'  moles  and  to  the  bats !  How  gratefully 
would  thanksgiving  be  offered  that  he  who  is  our 
God  is  the  God  of  salvation,  the  God  and  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ !" 


132  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

From  the  period  of  his  arrival  in  India  to  his 
return  to  Britain,  in  consequence  of  ill  health, 
Havelock  saw  an  extraoi'dinary  amount  of  active 
service,  throughout  which  he  displayed  on  all 
occasions  the  highest  military  skill,  consistently 
maintaining  at  the  same  time  that  devout  and 
religious  spirit  for  which  he  was  so  remarkable. 
It  was,  however,  only  after  serving  twenty-three 
years  as  a  subaltern  that  he  obtained  his  captaincy. 
This  promotion  was  followed  by  other  steps.  He 
gained  the  rank  of  Major  and  the  Cross  of  Com- 
panion of  the  Bath  in  1843  ;  in  the  following  year 
he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  Lieutenant-Col- 
onel by  brevet  ;  in  1855  he  became  Adjutant- 
General  to  the  Forces ;  and  was  Brigadier-General 
in  1857. 

The  name  of  General  Havelock  is  imperishably 
associated  with  the  exploits  of  the  British  forces 
during  the  rebellion  in  India.  In  the  numerous 
battles  in  which  his  troops  were  engaged  prior  to 
the  capture  of  Cawnpore  and  the  relief  of  Lnck- 
now,  he  displayed  an  amount  of  military  skill  and 
personal  heroism  which  places  him  on  a  level  with 
the  most  illustrious  generals  either  of  ancient  or 
modern  times ;  but  for  the  many  striking  incidents 
which  occurred,  and  in  which  this  distinguished 
hero  took  an  active  part,  we  must  refer  our  readers 
to  those  works  which  give  in  detail  the  history  of 
the  frightful  occurrences  which  marked  the  pro- 
gress of  the  rebellion. 

After  removing  from  Lucknow  with  the  garrison 


I 


HENRY  ^lAVELOCK.  133 

which  he  had  been  instrumental  in  delivering  from 
the  imminent  peril  in  which  they  were  placed, 
General  Havelock  felt  setiously  indisposed.  It  is 
not  improbable  that  he  may  have  been  ill  during 
the  tremendous  conflict,  or  rather  series  of  conflicts 
with  the  enemy,  which  preceded  his  entrance  into 
the  besieged  Residency,  and  that  the  excitement 
kept  him  from  feeling  himself  ill,  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  a  soldier  wounded  amidst  the  wild  tumult 
of  the  fight  scarcely  feels  the  hurt.  Beyond  doubt, 
too,  the  fatigue  and  the  privation,  and  the  mental 
pressure  he  had  endured,  could  hardly  fail  to  injure 
one  whose  o^eneral  health  a  Ions:  residence  in  a  hot 
climate  had  deteriorated.  The  symptoms  which 
appeared  were  those  of  indigestion  and  dysentery, 
and  for  a  short  time,  under  careful  medical  treat- 
ment, there  seemed  to  be  some  degree  of  improve- 
ment. In  a  letter,  dated  November  the  19th. 
which  he  wrote  to  his  family,  whom  he  had  left  at 
Bonn,  he  refers  to  his  elevation  to  the  Command- 
ership  of  the  Bath,  to  the  wound  his  son  had  re- 
ceived, and  other  matters  of  interest.  This  was 
his  last  letter.  In  order  to  his  improvement,  he 
was  removed  for  change  of  air  from  Alum  Bagh  to 
Sir  Colin  Campbell's  camp  at  the  Dilkoosha.  This 
change  was  productive  of  much  comfort,  and  even 
of  improvement,  in  the  symj^toms  of  his  complaint. 
But  the  improvement  was  not  permanent,  and  the 
disease  soon  assumed  a  malignant  form,  the  result 
of  which,  in  his  reduced  condition  could  no  longer 
be  doubtful. 


134:  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

The  divine  principles  which  had  been  his  guide 
through  life,  did  not  prove  unavailing  now  in  the 
hour  of  his  extremity.  It  had  been  his  continual 
effort  to  discharge  the  duties  of  his  station  from  the 
highest  of  all  motives — the  constraining  influence 
of  the  love  of  God ;  and  the  same  principles  which 
enabled  him  to  give  obedience  to  the  demands  of 
duty  also  effectually  aided  him  to  submit  to  the 
divine  will  by  suffering  patiently.  "The  23d 
passed,"  to  quote  from  a  biographical  sketch  of  his 
life,  *'  in  the  calmest  submission  to  the  Lord's  will. 
Every  faculty  was  active,  and  every  sensibility  of 
his  nature  in  fullest  power.  No  mere  indifference 
was  upon  him.  It  was  not  because  he  did  not 
choose  to  realise  his  position  that  he  contrived  to 
be  at  peace.  He  knew  that  he  was  about  to  make 
the  great  transition  from  the  life  that  now  is  to  that 
which  is  to  come.  He  remembered  his  unworthi- 
ness  of  all  God's  favors.  He  was  actually  conscious, 
as  he  was  lying  there  in  his  prostration,  of  his  per- 
sonal desert  of  banishment  from  God.  But  then 
he  was  in  Christ ;  and,  being  there,  it  was  impossi- 
ble he  should  perish.  He  must  needs  have  ever- 
lasting life.  His  illustrious  companion,  Sir  James 
Outram,  having  called,  he  thought  it  right  to  say 
to  him  what  was  then  upon  his  mind.  '  For  more 
than  forty  years,'  was  his  remark  to  Sir  James, — 
for  more  than  forty  years,  I  have  so  ruled  my  life 
that  when  death  came  I  might  face  it  without  fear.' 
Often  had  they  faced  it  together,  even  during  that 
recent  memorable  advance  for  the  relief  of  Luck- 


HENBY   HAVELOCK.  135 

now.  There,  however,  God  had  averted  it ;  but 
here  it  was  present  in  all  its  power,  and  must  be 
met.  *  So  be  it'  was  the  imperturbed  response  of 
Outram's  comrade;  'I  am  not  in  the  least  afraid. 
To  die  is  gain.  I  die  happy  and  contented,'  he 
kept  on  saying,  knowing  whom  he  had  believed, 
and  persuaded  that  he  was  able  to  keep  what  he 
had  committed  to  him  until  that  day.  On  the  24th 
his  end  was  obviously  near  at  hand.  His  eldest 
son  was  still  his  loving  and  faithful  nurse, — himself 
it  should  be  remembered,  a  wounded  man,  and 
specially  needing  kindly  care.  Waiting  on  his 
father  with  unflagging  and  womanly  assiduity,  he 
was  summoned  to  hearken  to  some  parting  words. 
'  Come,'  said  the  disciple  thus  faithful  unto  death ; 
'  come,  my  son,  and  see  how  a  Christian  can  die.' 
On  the  25th,  a  grave  Avas  prepared  for  his  remains 
in  the  Alum  Bagh,  and  Sir  Colin  Campbell,  with 
his  sorrowing  comrades,  who  had  followed  him 
through  so  many  vicissitudes,  buried  him  out  of 
sight,  in  sure  and  certain  hope  of  the  resurrection 
unto  eternal  life." 


DAYID  LiymGSTONE. 

It  is  a  very  old  saying,  but  a  very  true  one, 
"that  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction."  Who  can 
imagine  changes,  in  fairy  land  even,  greater  than 
those  effected  by  the  marvels  of  science  ?  Fairies, 
genii,  gnomes,  dwarfs  with  golden  hair,  wonderful 
lamps,  enchanted  wands  and  rings,  have  all  been 
rivaled  long  ago  by  electricity  and  by  steam. 
Why,  that  daring  "  Puck"  never  conceived  of  a 
time  so  short  to  put  a  girdle  round  the  earth,  as 
we  can  now  encircle  it  with  a  stream  of  electricity ! 
But  what  was  the  girdle  worth  when  "put  round?" 
and  what  is  our  steam  of  electricity  worth  ?  The 
one  is  the  toy  of  a  child,  the  other  a  powerful  in- 
strument in  the  hands  of  a  giant.  Many  years 
agone,  so  it  is  said,  visits  could  be  paid  to  strange 
old  men  and  women,  who  had,  amongst  other 
curiosities — stuffed  alligators  and  dried  bats  being 
the  chief — a  marvelous  magic  mirror,  which,  after 
certain  cabalistic  words  had  been  pronounced, 
would  reflect  the  image  of  some  dear  friend  or 
loved  relation  for  a  single  instant,  and  would  then 
Vioiish.     Now,  by  the   aid  of  photography,  our 


DAVID   LIVmGSTONE.  137 

fathers  and  mothers  and  loved  relatives  can  peep 
at  a  glass  four  inches  square,  prepared  not  with 
any  enchantment,  but  with  a  little  collodion,  sold 
by  most  chemists,  and  their  loved  images  will  be 
reflected  and  retained  for  many  coming  years. 
And  then  again,  all  the  stories  of  convertiug  cin- 
der-girls into  princesses,  porters  and  market-men 
into  grand  viziers  and  chief  magistrates,  by  the 
touch  of  a  wand  or  the  exercise  of  a  wish — why, 
that  is  not  so  marvelous  as  the  reality.  Look  at 
this  fact  in  iUustration : — David  Livingstone  was  a 
poor  factory  lad ;  he  is  noAV  one  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  travelers,  and  for  his  scientific  attain- 
ments the  learned  societies  of  all  countries  have 
vied  to  do  him  honor.  He  is  a  gold  medalist  and 
corresponding  member  of  the  Royal  Geographical 
Societies  of  London  and  Paris,  and  Doctor  of  Civil 
Laws  of  the  University  of  Oxford. 

David's  great-grandfather  fell  at  the  memorable 
battle  of  Culloden :  that  is  something  to  be  proud 
of;  his  grandfather,  Hke  many  men  of  a  past  race, 
was  intimately  acquainted  with  all  the  legends 
and  stories  which  formed  the  foundation  of  Sir 
Walter  Scott's  "  Tales  of  a  Grandfather,"  and  other 
thrilling  narratives.  David  was  a  willing  and  a 
delighted  listener  to  the  recital  of  these  legends. 
His  grandmother,  also,  had  stores  of  Gaelic  songs, 
which  she  sang  for  the  amusement  of  our  hero, 
and  which  she  believed  had  been  composed  by 
captive  islanders,  languishing  hopelessly  among 
the  Turks.     David's   grandfather  could  trace  the 


138  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

family  tree  for  six  generations ;  he  could  state  in- 
cidents, and  give  interesting  particulars  of  the 
various  members  for  so  long  time  back.  David 
remembers  with  pleasure  one  fact  in  connection 
with  his  family.  A  poor  islander,  one  of  his  an- 
cestors, who  was  renowned  in  the  district  for  great 
wisdom  and  prudence,  when  he  was  on  his  death- 
bed, called  all  his  children  round  him,  and  said: 
"  Now,  in  my  lifetime  I  have  searched  most  care- 
fully through  all  the  traditions  I  could  find  of  our 
family,  and  I  never  could  discover  that  there  was 
a  dishonest  man  among  our  forefathers.  If,  there- 
fore, any  of  you  or  any  of  your  children  should 
take  to  dishonest  ways,  it  will  not  be  because  it 
runs  in  our  blood ;  it  does  not  belong  to  you.  I 
leave  this  precept  with  you :  Be  honest." 

David's  grandfather,  in  order  to  support  his 
family,  removed  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  Clyde, 
near  Glasgow,  where  his  sons  were  received  as 
clerks  in  the  cotton  manufactory  of  Monteith  & 
Co.  He  acquired  a  reputation  for  unflinching 
honesty,  and  was  employed  by  the  proprietors  of 
the  works  to  convey  large  sums  of  moneys  to  and 
from  Glasgow;  and  when  he  had  grown  old  in 
their  service  he  was  pensioned  off,  so  that  his  de- 
clining years  were  passed  in  comfort. 

David's  uncle  during  the  French  war  entered 
the  army  and  navy ;  his  father,  however,  remained 
at  home  engaged  in  the  not  very  important  duties 
of  a  small  tea-dealer.  His  kindliness  of  manner 
and  excellence  of  disposition  caused  him  to  be 


DAVID   LIVINGSTONE.  139 

loved  and  respected  by  his  children.  His  example 
ito  his  offspring  was  such  as  that  which  is  so 
beautifully  and  truthfully  depicted  in  Scotland's 
great  poem — "  The  Cotter's  Saturday  Kight." 
He  died  when  Livingstone  was  on  his  travels,  ex- 
pecting some  day  to  return  and  have  the  pleasure  of 
sitting  by  the  cottage  fire  to  relate  his  adventures. 
David  was  born  at  the  village  of  Blantyre, 
Scotland,  in  or  about  the  year  1817,  and  when  he 
was  ten  years  of  age,  he  says  : — "  I  was  put  into 
the  factory  as  a  '  piercer,'  to  aid  by  my  earnings 
in  lessening  my  mother's  anxiety.  With  a  part  of 
my  first  week's  wages  I  purchased  Ruddiman's 
'  Rudiments  of  Latin,'  and  pursued  the  study  of 
the  language  for  many  years  afterward,  with  im- 
abated  ardor,  at  an  evening  school  which  met 
between  the  hours  of  eight  and  ten.  The  diction- 
ary part  of  my  labors  was  followed  up  till  twelve 
o'clock  or  later,  if  my  mother  did  not  interfere  by 
jumping  up  and  snatching  the  books  out  of  my 
hands.  I  had  to  be  back  in  the  factory  by  six  in 
the  morning,  and  continue  my  work,  with  inter- 
vals for  breakfast  and  dinner,  till  eight  o'clock  at 
night.  I  read  in  this  way  many  of  the  classical 
authors,  and  knew  Virgil  and  Horace  better  at 
sixteen  than  I  do  now.  Our  schoolmaster,  happily 
still  alive,  was  supported  in  part  by  the  company ; 
he  was  attentive  and  kind,  and  so  moderate  in  his 
charges,  that  all  who  wished  for  education  might 
have  obtained  it.  Many  availed  themselves  of  the 
privilege  ;    and  some  of  my  school-fellows  now 


110  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

rank  in  position  far  above  what  tliey  ever  appeared 
likely  to  come  to  when  in  the  village  school." 

Every  thing  in  the  shape  of  good  books ;  that  is, 
books  of  travel  and  treatises  upon  scientific  sub- 
jects, he  read  with  avidity ;  and,  from  his  subse- 
quent life,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  what  he  read 
he  remembered — no  mere  time-killing,  but  earnest, 
anxious,  thoughtful  reading,  in  order  that  he  might 
hnow  and  learn.  While  he  was  at  his  work,  even, 
he  managed  to  turn  to  good  account  the  stray  mo- 
ments which  his  employment  aiforded  him. 

"  In  recognising  the  plants  pointed  out  in  my 
first  medical  book,"  he  writes,  "  that  extraordinary 
old  work  on  astrological  medicine,  '  Culpepper's 
Herbal,'  I  had  the  guidance  of  a  book  on  the  plants 
of  Lanarkshire,  by  Patrick.  Limited  as  my  time 
was,  I  found  opportunities  to  scour  the  whole  coun- 
try-side, '  collecting  simples.'  Deep  and  anxious 
were  my  studies  on  the  still  deeper  and  more  per- 
plexing profundities  of  astrology,  and  I  believe 
I  got  as  as  far  into  that  abyss  of  fantasies  as  my 
author  said  he  dared  to  lead  me.  It  seemed  peril- 
ous ground  to  tread  on  farther,  for  the  dark  hint 
seemed  to  my  youthful  mind  to  loom  toward 
'  selling  soul  and  body  to  the  devil,'  as  the  price  of 
the  unfathomable  knowledge  of  the  stars.  These 
excursions,  often  in  company  with  brothers,  one 
now  in  Canada,  the  other  a  clergyman  in  the 
United  States,  gratified  my  intense  love  of  nature ; 
and  though  we  generally  returned  so  unmercifully 
hungry  and  fatigued,  that  the  embryo  parson  shed 


DAYID   LIVIIS"GSTONE.  141 

tears,  yet  we  discovered  so  many,  to  us,  new  and 
interesting  things,  that  he  was  always  as  eager  to 
join  us  next  time  as  he  was  the  last. 

"  On  one  of  these  exploring  tours,  we  entered  a 
limestone  quarry — ^long  before  geology  was  so  pop- 
ular as  it  is  now.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the 
delight  and  wonder  with  which  I  began  to  collect 
the  shells  found  in  the  carboniferous  limestone, 
which  crops  out  in  High  Blantyre  and  Cambuslang. 
A  quarryman  seeing  a  little  boy  so  engaged,  looked 
with  that  pitying  eye  which  the  benevolent  assume 
when  viewing  the  insane.  Addressing  him  with, 
'  How  ever  did  these  shells  come  into  these  rocks  ?' 
*  When  God  made  the  rocks,  he  made  the  shells  in 
them,'  was  the  damping  reply.  What  would  Hugh 
Miller  have  thought  of  this  Scotchman  ? 

"My  reading  while  at  work,  he  further  says, 
"  was  carried  on  by  placing  the  book  on  a  portion 
of  the  spinning-jenny,  so  that  I  could  catch  sen- 
tence after  sentence  as  I  passed  at  my  work ;  I  thus 
kept  up  a  pretty  constant  study,  undisturbed  by  the 
roar  of  the  machinery.  To  this  part  of  my  educa- 
tion, I  owe  my  present  power  of  so  completely  ab- 
stracting the  mind  from  surrounding  noises,  as  to 
read  and  write  with  perfect  comfort  amidst  the 
play  of  children  or  the  dancing  and  songs  of  sav- 
ages. The  toil  of  cotton-spinning,  to  which  I  was 
promoted  in  my  nineteenth  year,  was  excessively 
severe  on  a  slim,  loose-jointed  lad,  but  it  was  well 
paid  for ;  and  it  enabled  me  to  support  myself 
while    attending   medical   and   Greek    classes   in 


142  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

winter,  also  the  divinity  lectures  of  Dr.  Wardlaw, 
by  working  with  my  hands  in  summer.  I  never 
received  a  farthing  of  aid  from  any  one,  and  should 
have  accomplished  my  project  of  going  to  China  as 
a  medical  missionary,  in  the  course  of  time,  by  my 
own  efforts,  had  not  some  of  my  friends  advised 
my  joining  the  London  Missionary  Society ;  but  it 
was  not  without  a  pang  that  I  offered  myself,  for 
it  was  not  quite  agreeable  to  one  accustomed  to 
work  his  own  way  to  become  in  a  measure  de- 
pendent on  others;  and  I  would  not  have  been 
much  put  about  though  my  offer  had  been  re- 
jected." 

Livingstone  does  not  regret  that  his  first  years 
were  devoted  to  intense  labor ;  on  the  contrary,  he 
rejoices  that  they  were  so  spent.  He  says: 
"  Looking  back  now  on  that  life  of  toil,  I  cannot 
but  feel  thankful  that  it  formed  such  a  material  part 
of  my  early  education ;  and,  were  it  possible,  I 
should  like  to  begin  life  over  again  in  the  same 
lowly  style,  and  to  pass  through  the  same  hardy 
training." 

These  sentiments  are  alike  creditable  to  his  head 
and  heart.  What  eminence  is  there  in  the  world 
which  can  equal  that  which  has  been  won  from  in- 
digence and  obscurity  ?  To  be  born  to  riches  and 
rank  is  certainly  no  disgrace  ;  but  riches  and  rank 
do  not,  of  themselves,  entitle  to  honor  and  esteem. 
We  respect  men  for  their  personal  merits,  for  their 
efforts  to  acquire  knowledge,  and  to  diffuse  to 
others  the  results   of  their   attainments.      These 


DAVID   LIVINGSTONE.  143 

things  constitute  the  true  nobleman.  If,  therefore, 
we  had  no  other  reason  to  esteem  Livingstone,  this 
confession  of  his,  of  not  only  coming  from  the 
ranks  of  the  factory  workers,  but  glorying  in  the 
fact,  secures  the  admiration  of  good  men,  and  pre- 
sents an  example  for  all  coming  time  to  every 
youth  and  earnest  man. 

An  observation  may  be  made  here,  in  opposition 
to  the  opinion  generally  entertained,  that  greatness 
or  eminence  is  the  result  of  some  accident,  or  pe- 
culiarity of  situation,  or  class  of  mind  born  or  in- 
herited. It  was  the  opinion  of  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds that  "  the  superiority  attainable  in  any  puT- 
suit  whatever,  does  not  originate  in  an  innate 
propensity  of  the  mind  for  that  pursuit  in  particu- 
lar, but  depends  on  the  general  strength  of  the 
intellect,  and  on  the  intense  and  constant  applica- 
tion of  that  strength  to  a  specific  purpose."  And 
in  confirmation  reference  need  only  be  made  to  the 
habits  of  any  really  great  man,  who  will  tell  you 
that  the  secret  of  his  success  has  been — application, 
constant  and  ever  enduring  work.  David  Living- 
stone, as  we  have  seen,  is  no  exception  to  this  rule. 
By  dint  of  hard  work,  he  finished  his  medical 
course  of  study,  and  was  admitted  a  Licentiate  of 
the  Faculty  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons.  His  de- 
light on  this  consummation  arose  from  the  fact 
that  he  was  now  better  fitted  for  works  of  practical 
benevolence. 

Owing  to  the  China  war  it  was  not  deemed  ad- 
visable that  he  should  proceed  to  that  coimtry. 


144:  FAIVIOUS   BOYS. 

Hearing  the  celebrated  Robert  Moffat  preach,  upon 
his  return  from  Africa,  he  determined,  and,  acting- 
uj)on  his  determination,  offered  himself  to  the 
London  Missionary  Society  to  go  out  to  that  coun- 
try. He  was,  to  his  great  satisfaction,  accepted, 
and  returned  with  Moffat  to  the  Kuruman  station. 
While  there,  he  learned  many  things  which  were 
afterward  of  great  service  to  him ;  made  himself 
acquainted  with  the  language,  and  learned  to  ride 
upon  oxen.  After  leaving  Kuruman,  he  proceeded 
to  Kolobeng,  about  two  hundred  miles  to  the 
north,  where  he  built  mission  premises — chapel, 
school-house,  dwelling-house,  etc.  Desirous  of  as- 
certaining the  truth  of  the  statement  made  by 
the  people  at  the  station,  that  about  a  month's 
journey  there  was  a  large  river  and  inland  sea,  he 
set  out  on  an  exploring  expedition.  Great  diffi- 
culties were  encountered  in  crossing  the  Sahara 
desert,  but  finally  the  noble  river  Zouga  was 
reached.  Here,  impatient  of  further  discoveries, 
Livingstone  got  a  rude  canoe  constructed,  and 
committed  himself  to  the  mercy  of  the  waters  of 
the  newly-discovered  river.  His  object  was,  if 
possible,  to  arrive  at  the  lake  Ngami.  On  the  4th 
of  July,  1849,  David  reached  the  broad  part  of  the 
lake,  "  when,  for  the  first  time,  this  fine-looking 
sheet  of  water  was  beheld  by  Europeans."  Having 
ascertained  beyond  all  doubt  the  existence  of  this 
great  river  and  lake,  Livingstone  planned  a  fur- 
ther journey  across  the  Zouga,  with  the  intention 
of  seeing  what    country    lay    beyond.      In   this 


DAVID   LIVIXG  STONE.  145 

second  journey  he  ascertained  that  the  lake  was 
seventy  miles  in  length,  about  twenty-five  miles 
in  breadth,  and  that  it  was  nearly  3,000  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea. 

In  the  December  of  1851  he  commenced  his 
third  journey.  This  time  he  packed  up  all  his 
property,  and  with  his  wife  and  three  children 
started  for  the  interior  of  Africa.  His  intention 
was,  if  possible,  to  reach  Linyante — a  town  said  to 
be  in  existence,  and  where  a  friendly  chief  was 
said  to  reside,  named  Sebitoane.  After  crossing 
the  Zouga  and  traveling  200  miles  north,  he  ar- 
rived at  a  dried-up  salt  lake  or  inland  sea,  about 
one  hundred  miles  in  length  and  fifty  in  breadth ; 
it  was  encrusted  with  pure  white  salt.  Diverging 
in  a  north-westerly  direction  he  made  the  discovery 
of  the  splendid  river  Chobe,  which  is  larger,  and 
surrounded  with  finer  scenery,  than  the  Zouga. 
After  crossing  the  Chobe,  he  soon  reached  Lin- 
yante, where  he  was  most  hospitably  received.  He 
remained  here  some  considerable  time,  occupied  in 
taking  observations  and  noting  the  manners  and 
customs  of  the  natives.  Finding,  however,  that 
the  place  was  unfavorable  for  a  missionary  station, 
on  account  of  its  inundations,  he  returned  to  Kuru- 
man,  and  wrote  to  the  directors  of  the  London 
Missionary  Society  that  he  had  only  half  done  his 
work ;  but,  having  had  his  arm  broken  by  a  lion — 
though  that  was  nothing — and  his  throat  being 
diseased,  he  should  be  compelled  to  go  to  the  Cape 
to  recruit. 
10 


14:6  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

Whilst  at  Cape  Town,  where  he  embarked  his 
wife  and  family  for  England,  he  placed  himself 
nnder  the  instruction  of  Mr.  Maclear,  the  astrono- 
mer-royal, so  that  in  his  jonrneys  he  might  be  able 
to  take,  solar  and  lunar  observations.  He  was  sub- 
sequently enabled  to  take  146  latitudes  and  longi- 
tudes and  about  190  observations;  so  that  now, 
any  person,  by  using  the  map  made  by  Living- 
stone, may  go  straight  to  any  part  of  Africa  he 
traversed. 

Livingstone  left  Kuruman  on  his  fourth  journey 
in  June,  1852.  He  crossed  the  river  Zouga,  and 
the  dried  salt  lake,  going  in  his  former  westerly 
direction.  On  this  journey  the  weather  was  so 
bad  that  his  oxen  and  wagon  stuck  in  the  mud, 
so  that  he  had  to  go  forward  almost  alone. 
Making  use  of  a  small  boat  he  had  brought  with 
him,  he  cut  his  way  for  three  days  and  nights 
down  the  river  for  twenty  miles,  by  which  means 
he  arrived  at  Linyante  a  second  time.  The  young 
chief,  when  he  saw  Livingstone,  lifted  up  his  hands 
with  astonishment,  and  said,  "Well,  we  did  not 
think  any  one  could  reach  Linyante  in  the  rainy 
season,  and  we  intrenched  ourselves  here  that  we 
might  never  be  invaded.  You  Englishmen  must 
have  dropped  from  the  skies  on  the  back  of  a  hip- 
popotamus." After  resting  awhile,  he  again  start- 
ed to  reach  the  western  coast,  being  accompanied 
by  forty-seven  of  the  natives.  The  chief  lent  him 
his  canoe,  which  was  twenty  inches  wide  and 
thirty-four  feet  long.     He  and  his  party  reached 


David  Livingston  studying  wliile  working  in  the  Cotton  Factory. 

Page  147. 


DAVED   LIVINGSTONE.  147 

St.  Paul  de  Loando,  on  the  western  coast,  having 
endured  on  the  journey  a  variety  of  perils.  When 
the  natives  saw  the  sea  their  astonishment  exceed- 
ed all  bounds.  They  said,  "  Our  fathers  told  us 
the  world  had  no  end  ;  they  deceived  us  ;  we  have 
come  to  the  place  where  the  world  does  end,  and 
the  world  says,  '  I'm  done,  and  there  is  no  more 
of  me,  but  all  the  rest  is  water.' "  Now  that  the 
natives  have  seen  the  sea,  they  attribute  all  the 
wonders  they  cannot  understand  to  it.  When 
they  are  asked  where  the  cotton  goods  come  from, 
they  always  reply,  "  From  the  sea."  Hence  they 
have  a  belief  that  Englishmen  live  in  the  sea.  All 
the  natives  of  North  Africa  have  no  other  idea. 
Livingstone,  when  he  passed  through  the  villages, 
was  shown  as  the  man  living  in  the  sea.  As  con- 
firmation, the  natives  pointed  to  his  hair,  and  said 
that  it  was  all  scaled  out  with  water;  and  when 
he  was  accompanied  by  his  friends  from  Liny  ante, 
the  inhabitants,  as  they  passed  through  the  set- 
tlements, tried  to  persuade  them  not  to  go,  "  For," 
said  they,  "you  will  be  taken  down  into  the  sea 
and  eaten."  When  the  party  arrived  at  the  coast, 
Livingstone  invited  the  poor  people  to  go  on  board 
some  of  the  ships ;  but  they  were  still  afraid  there 
was  Some  truth  in  the  statement.  However,  when 
they  were  told  they  could  go  or  not  as  they  liked, 
they  consented.  After  this  visit  Livingstone  was 
treated  with  great  respect.  The  marvels  of  the 
ships  had  made  an  immense  impression  upon 
them. 


148  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

In  1854,  Livingstone  commenced  Ms  last  trip, 
prior  to  his  visiting  his  father-land.  It  was  his  in- 
tention to  reach  the  other  side  of  the  continent  of 
Africa.  On  this  journey,  which  was  full  of  difficulty 
and  peril,  he  discovered  that  the  language  into 
which  the  Scriptures  had  been  translated  by  Moffiit 
and  Hamilton,  was  the  language  spoken  throughout 
Africa.  He  soon  found,  also,  that  which  had  been 
the  anxious  object  of  his  search  for  six  years — a 
high  table  land,  in  every  respect  well  suited  for  a 
mission  station.  On  this  spot  Livingstone  founded 
a  mission  establishment ;  and  then  only  did  he  re- 
turn for  a  brief  period  to  old  England.  He  was 
anxious  to  bring  over  one  of  the  natives,  who  had 
served  him  as  a  faithful  servant,  but  such  an  effect 
was  produced  upon  him  by  the  steam-engines  and 
the  other  novelties  of  the  vessel,  that  he  jumped 
over-board  in  a  fit  of  delirium,  and  was  drowned. 

Livingstone,  during  his  sojourn  in  Africa,  had 
many  narrow  escapes  from  death.  One  of  his  hair- 
breadth adventures  he  thus  narrates : — 

"  Returning  toward  Kuruman,  I  selected  the 
beautiful  valley  of  Mabotsa  as  the  site  of  a  mis- 
sionary station;  and  thither  I  removed  in  1843. 
Here  an  occurrence  took  place,  concerning  which 
I  have  frequently  been  questioned  in  England,  and 
w^hich,  but  for  the  importunities  of  friends,  I  meant 
to  have  kept  in  store  to  tell  my  children  when  in 
my  dotage.  The  Bakatla  of  the  village  Mabotsa 
were  much  troubled  by  lions,  which  leaped  into' 
the  cattle-pens  by  night  and  destroyed  their  cows. 


DATID    LIVINGSTONE.  149 

They  even  attacked  the  herds  in  open  day.  This 
was  so  unusual  an  occurrence,  that  the  people 
believed  that  they  were  bewitched — 'given,'  as 
they  said,  '  into  the  power  of  the  lions  by  a  neigh- 
boring tribe.'  They  went  once  to  attack  the  ani- 
mals, but,  being  rather  a  cowardly  people  com- 
pared to  Bechuanas  in  general  on  such  occasions, 
they  returned  without  killing  any. 

"  It  is  well  known  that  if  one  in  a  troop  of  lions 
is  killed,  the  others  take  the  hint,  and  leave  that 
part  of  the  country.  So  the  next  time  the  herds 
were  attacked,  I  went  with  the  people,  in  order  to 
encourage  them  to  rid  themselves  of  the  annoyance 
by  destroying  one  of  the  marauders.  We  found 
the  lions  on  a  small  hill,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
in  length,  and  covered  with  trees.  A  circle  of 
men  was  formed  round  it,  and  they  gradually 
closed  up,  ascending  pretty  near  to  each  other. 
Being  down  below,  on  the  plain  with  a  native 
schoolmaster,  named  Mebalwe,  a  most  excellent 
man,  I  saw  one  of  the  lions  sitting  on  a  piece  of 
rock  within  the  now  closed  circle  of  men.  Mebal- 
we fired  at  him  before  I  could,  and  the  ball  struck 
the  rock  on  which  the  animal  was  sitting.  He  bit 
at  the  spot  struck,  as  a  dog  does  at  a  stick  or 
stone  thrown  at  him ;  then  leaping  away,  broke 
through  the  opening  circle  and  escaped  unhurt. 
The  men  were  afraid  to  attack  him,  perhaps  on 
account  of  their  belief  in  witchcraft.  When  the 
circle  was  re-formed,  we  saw  two  other  lions  in 
it ;  but  we  were  afraid  to  fire,  lest  we  should  strike 


150  I'AMOUS    BOYS. 

the  men,  and  they  allowed  the  beasts  to  burst 
through  also.  If  the  Bakatla  had  acted  according 
to  the  custom  of  the  country,  they  would  have 
speared  the  lions  in  their  attempt  to  get  out. 
Seeing  we  could  not  get  them  to  kill  one  of  the 
lions,  we  bent  our  footsteps  toward  the  village ;  in 
going  round  the  end  of  the  hill,  however,  I  saw 
one  of  the  beasts  sitting  on  a  piece  of  rock  as 
before,  but  this  time  he  had  a  little  bush  in  front. 
Being  about  thirty  yards  off,  I  took  a  good  aim  at 
his  body  through  the  bush,  and  fired  both  barrels 
into  it.  The  men  then  called  out,  '  He  is  shot,  he 
is  shot!'  Others  cried,  'He  has  been  shot  by 
another  man,  too ;  let  us  go  to  him !'  I  did  not 
see  any  one  else  shoot  at  him,  but  I  saw  the  lion's 
tail  erected  in  anger  behind  the  bush,  and,  turning 
to  the  people,  said,  '  Stop  a  little  till  I  load  again !' 
When  in  the  act  of  ramming  down  the  buUets  I 
heard  a  shout. 

"Starting  and  looking  half  round,  I  saw  the 
lion  just  in  the  act  of  springing  upon  me.  I  was 
upon  a  little  height ;  he  caught  my  shoulder  as  he 
sprang,  and  we  both  came  to  the  ground  below 
together.  Growling  horribly  close  to  my  ear,  he 
shook  me  as  a  terrier  dog  does  a  rat.  This  shock 
produced  a  stupor  similar  to  that  which  seems  to 
be  felt  by  a  mouse  after  the  first  shake  of  the  cat. 
It  caused  a  sort  of  dreaminess,  in  which  there  was 
no  sense  of  pain,  nor  feeling  of  terror,  though  quite 
conscious  of  all  that  was  happening.  It  was  hke 
what  patients  partially   under  the  influence   of 


DAVID    LIVINGSTONE.  151 

chloroform  describe,  who  see  all  the  operation,  but 
feel  not  the  knife.  This  singular  condition  was 
not  the  result  of  any  mental  process.  The  shake 
annihilated  fear,  and  allowed  no  sense  of  horror 
in  looking  round  at  the  beast.  This  peculiar  state 
is  probably  produced  in  all  animals  killed  by  the 
carnivora;  and,  if  so,  is  a  merciful  provision  by 
our  benevolent  Creator  for  lessenmg  the  pain  of 
death. 

"  Turning  round  to  relieve  myself  of  the  weight, 
as  he  had  one  paw  on  the  back  of  my  head,  I  saw 
his  eyes  directed  toward  Mebdlwe,  who  was  trying 
to  shoot  him  at  a  distance  of  ten  or  fifteen  yards. 
His  gun,  a  flint  one,  missed  fire  in  both  barrels ; 
the  lion  immediately  left  me,  and,  attacking  Meb^l- 
we,  bit  his  thigh.  Another  man,  whose  life  I  had 
saved  before,  after  he  had  been  tossed  by  a  buffalo, 
attempted  to  spear  the  lion  while  he  was  biting 
Mebalwe.  He  left  Mebdlwe  and  caught  this  man 
by  the  shoulder,  but  at  this  moment  the  bullets  he 
had  received  took  effect,  and  he  fell  down  dead. 
The  whole  was  the  work  of  a  few  minutes,  and 
must  have  been  his  paroxysm  of  dying  rage.  In 
order  to  take  out  the  charm  from  him,  the  Bakdtla 
on  the  following  day  made  a  huge  bonfire  over  the 
carcase,  which  was  declared  to  be  that  of  the 
largest  lion  they  had  ever  seen.  Besides  crunching 
the  bone  into  splinters,  he  left  eleven  teeth  wounds 
on  the  upper  part  of  my  arm.  A  wound  from  this 
animal's  tooth  resembles  a  gun-shot  wound ;  it  is 
generally  followed  by  a  great  deal  of  sloughing 


lift  FAMOrS   BOYS. 

and  discharge,  and  pains  are  felt  periodically  ever 
afterward.  I  had  on  a  tartan  jacket  on  the  occa- 
sion, and  I  believe  that  it  wiped  off  all  the  virus 
from  the  teeth  that  pierced  the  flesh,  for  my  two 
companions  in  this  affray  have  both  suffered  from 
the  peculiar  pains,  while  I  have  escaped  with  only 
the  inconvenience  of  a  false  joint  in  the  limb. 
The  man  whose  shoulder  was  wounded  showed 
me  his  wound  actually  burst  forth  afresh  on  the 
same  month  of  the  following  year.  This  curious 
point  deserves  the  attention  of  inquirers." 

On  several  other  occasions  Livingstone  was  in 
imminent  danger — at  times  by  hunger  and  thirst, 
and  then  his  life  was  in  peril  by  the  hands  of 
savages,  and  the  repeated  attacks  of  fever ;  while 
exposure  to  drought  and  rains,  to  heat  and  cold, 
make  it  almost  a  miracle  that  he  should  have  been 
preserved.  After  braving  these  dangers  he  re- 
turned to  his  dearly-loved  country  but  for  a  brief 
season — scarcely  sufiicient  to  render  to  his  country- 
xaen  an  account  of  his  wanderings,  and  then  re- 
turned to  the  scene  of  his  usefulness ;  this  time  as 
an  explorer,  bearing  a  government  commission, 
and  accompanied  by  companions  suited  for  observ- 
ing the  various  features  of  a  newly  opened  up 
country. 

So  recently  as  June,  1859,  Sir  George  Grey  re- 
ceived a  letter  from  the  distinguished  traveler, 
containing  a  sketch  of  some  important  geographi- 
cal discoveries. 


DA^^D  livingstonp:.  153 

"River  Shire,  June  1st,  1859. 
"  My  dear  Sir  George  : — We  have  lately  dis- 
covered a  very  fine  lake  by  going  up  this  river  in 
the  steam  launch  about  one  hundred  miles,  and 
then  marching  some  fifty  more  on  foot.  It  is  called 
Shirwa,  and  Lake  N'gami  is  a  mere  pond  in  com- 
parison. It  is,  moreover,  particularly  interesting, 
from  the  fact  reported  by  the  natives  on  its  shores, 
that  it  is  separated  by  a  strip  of  land  of  only  five 
or  six  miles  in  width  from  Nyanja,  or  Lake 
N'yinyesi — the  stars — which  Burton  has  gone  to 
explore.  We  could  hear  nothing  of  his  party  at 
Shirwa,  and  having  got  no  European  news  since 
you  kindly  sent  some  copies  of  the  Times  last  year, 
we  are  quite  in  the  dark  as  to  whether  he  has  suc- 
ceeded or  not.  Lake  Shirwa  has  no  outlet,  and 
its  waters  are  bitter,  but  drinkable.  It  abounds 
in  fishes,  leeches,  alligators,  and  hippopotami.  We 
discovered  also  by  examining,  partly  a  branch  of 
the  Shire,  called  Ruo,  that  one  portion  of  Shirwa 
is  not  more  tlian  thirty  miles  distant  from  a  point 
that  may  easily  be  reached  by  this  launch,  which 
by  newspaper  measurement  draws  thirteen  inches, 
and  actually  thirty-one.  The  Lake  Shirwa  is  very 
grand.  It  is  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  lofty  green 
mountains.  Dzomba,  or,  as  people  nearest  it  say, 
Zpmba,  is  over  6,000  feet  high,  of  same  shape  as 
Table  Mountain,  but  inhabited  on  the  top ;  others 
are  equally  high,  but  inaccessible.  It  is  a  high 
land  region — the  lake  itself  being  about  2,000  feet 
above  the  sea.     It  is  twenty  or  thirty  miles  wide, 


154:  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

and  fifty  or  sixty  long.  On  going  some  way  up  a 
hill,  we  saw  in  the  far  distance  two  mountain  tops, 
rising  like  little  islands  on  a  watery  horizon.  An 
inhabited  mountain  island  stands  near  where  Ave 
first  came  to  it.  From  the  size  of  the  waves  it  is 
supposed  to  be  deep.  Mr.  Maclear  will  show  you 
the  map.  Dr.  Kirk  and  I,  with  fifteen  Makololo, 
formed  the  land  party.  The  country  is  well 
peopled,  and  very  much  like  Londa  in  the  middle 
of  the  country,  many  streams  rising  out  of  bogs — 
the  vegetation  nearly  identical  also.  Never  saw 
so  much  cotton  grown  as  among  the  Manganga 
of  the  Shire  and  Shirwa  Valleys — all  spin  and 
weave  it. 

"  These  are  the  latitudes  which  I  have  always 
pointed  out  as  the  cotton  and  sugar  lands ;  they 
are  pre-eminently  so,  but  such  is  the  disinterested- 
ness of  some  people,  that  labor,  is  exported  to 
Bourbon  instead  of  being  employed  here.  The 
only  trade  the  people  have  is  that  of  slaves ;  and 
the  only  symptoms  of  impudence  we  met  were 
from  a  party  of  Bajana  slave-traders ;  but  they 
changed  their  deportment  instantly  on  hearing 
that  we  were  English,  and  not  Portuguese.  There 
are  no  Maravi  at  or  near  Shirwa  ;  they  are  all  west 
of  the  Shire,  so  this  lake  can  scarcely  be  called  Lake 
Maravi ;  the  Portuguese  know  nothing  of  it ;  but 
the  minister  who  claimed  (blue  book  for  1857)  the 
honor  of  first  traversing  the  African  continent  for 
two  black  men  with  Portuguese  names,  must  ex- 
plain why  they  did  not  cross  Shirwa.    It  lies  some 


DATID    LIVIXGSTONE.  165 

forty  or  fifty  miles  on  each  side  of  the  latitude  of 
Mozambique.  They  came  to  Tete  only,  and  lacked 
at  least  four  hundred  miles  of  Mozambique.  We 
go  back  to  Shirwa  in  July,  and  may  make  a  push 
for  N'yinyesi. 

(Signed)  David  Livingstone." 

No  4oubt  the  wonders  of  Africa  are  only  just 
entered  upon  ;  and  that,  if  the  life  of  Livingstone 
is  spared,  his  labors  will  not  only  result  in  incal- 
culable blessings  to  the  natives,  but  be  the  source 
of  material  advantages  to  his  own  countrymen. 
This  imperfect  sketch  of  Dr.  Livingstone  may  be 
fittingly  closed  by  the  estimate  of  his  character, 
given  at  a  great  meeting  held  in  the  Senate  House 
at  Cambridge,  by  the  eloquent  and  learned  Chan- 
cellor of  the  Exchequer,  Mr.  Gladstone.  Upon 
that  occasion  he  said : — 

"  Dr.  Livmgstone  is  such  a  man  as  raises  our 
idea  of  the  age  in  which  we  live.  That  simplicity 
inseparable  from  true  grandeur,  that  breadth  and 
force,  that  superiority  to  all  worldly  calls  and  en- 
joyments, that  rapid  and  keen  intelligence,  that 
power  of  governing  men,  and  that  delight  in 
governing  them  for  their  own  good — he  has  every 
sign  upon  him  of  a  great  man,  and  his  qualities  are 
precisely  those  which  commend  themselves  with 
resistless  power  to  the  young  by  whom  we  see  this 
building  crowded.  For,  when  I  stand  in  this 
noble  structure,  I  cannot  stay  for  a  moment  to 
admire  its  magnificent  proportions.     It  is  not  the 


156  FAAtOUS   BOYS. 

gold,  but  the  temple  that  sanctified  the  gold ;  it  is 
not  the  Senate  House  of  Cambridge,  beautiful  as 
it  is,  but  it  is  the  minds  and  hearts  of  those  by 
whom  it  is  filled,  that  alone  can  draw  attention 
for  a  moment.  Let  us  render  to  Dr.  Livingstone 
the  full  tribute  of  what  we  feel.  Dr.  Livingstone 
is  a  Christian,  a  missionary,  a  great  traveler ;  he 
corresponds  in  every  particular  to  that  great  name 
which  the  admiration  of  all  ages  has  consecrated 
— he  is  a  hero.  Your  own  great  poet — the  great 
poet  of  this  age — Alfred  Tennyson — in  his  '  Idylls 
of  the  King,'  a  work  which  has  taken  its  place  in 
the  deathless  literature  of  the  world,  has  carried 
us  back  to  a  period  of  heroic  manners,  heroic 
deeds,  and  heroic  characters ;  but  if  the  power 
which  he  possesses  could  have  gone  beyond  what 
it  has  effected — could  have  gone  beyond  the  almost 
living  men  whom  it  has  portrayed,  and  could  ac- 
tually have  evoked  them  from  the  tomb,  not  one 
among  them,  though  the  ideal  of  human  nature, 
would  have  failed  to  recognise  Dr.  Livingstone  as 
a  brother,  and  to  acknowledge  him  as  his  most 
worthy  companion." 


OLIYEE  EVANS. 

Oliver  Evans  has  been  called  the  Watt  of  Am- 
erica. He  was  bom  at  Newport,  in  Delaware, 
about  the  year  1755,  of  respectable  parentage. 
His  father  was  a  farmer,  and  apprenticed  Oliver 
when  at  the  age  of  fourteen  to  a  wheelright.  The 
lad's  education  was  merely  rudimental,  but  suffi- 
cient to  inspire  him  with  a  thirst  for  knowledge, 
and  he  devoted  every  evening,  after  the  labors  of 
the  day,  to  study.  But  his  master  was  an  illiterate 
fellow,  who,  ignorant  of  books,  conceived  a  con- 
tempt for  book-knowledge  in  others,  and  attempted 
to  put  a  stop  to  Oliver's  unprofitable  employment 
by  denying  him  the  use  of  candles.  But  Oliver 
was  not  so  easily  thwarted ;  he  collected  shavings, 
set  them  in  a  blaze,  and  by  the  light  thus  afforded 
continued  his  studies.  Even  at  this  early  period 
he  gave  evidence  of  possessing  active  inventive 
faculties,  and  conceived  the  idea  of  finding  out  a 
method  of  propelling  carriages  on  common  roads 
without  the  aid  of  horses  or  other  animal  power. 
The  result  of  his  studies  was  the  conclusion  that 
it  was  impracticable,  until,  becoming  acquainted 
with  the  power  of  steam,  he  renewed  his  experi- 


158  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

inent,  and  confidently  declared  that  he  could  ac- 
complish his  object.  His  confident  assertions,  from 
one  so  young,  only  excited  ridicule,  and  he  was 
obliged  temporarily  to  abandon  his  scheme.  His 
ingenuity  was  not  confined  to  his  trade;  he  in- 
vented a  machine  for  making  card-teeth,  and 
exhibited  his  talents  for  inventions  and  new  com- 
binations in  various  ways.  At  the  age  of  twenty- 
five  he  married,  and  soon  after  went  into  partner- 
ship with  his  brothers,  who  were  millers.  Here 
was  an  admirable  field  for  his  talents,  and  to  his 
many  inventions  the  miller  fraternity  are  greatly 
indebted.  His  improvements  and  inventions  were 
numerous,  and  very  important,  but  they  were  re- 
ceived with  opposition  from  interested  sources. 
He  sent  his  brother  through  the  country  to  offer 
his  inventions  gratis  to  the  first  mill  in  each 
county  that  would  set  them  up;  but  even  this 
liberal  offer  was  unaccepted ;  the  millers  rejected 
his  improvements,  derided  them,  and  only  at  last 
yielded  when  compelled  to  by  the  few  enterprising 
competitors  who  at  last  took  them  up. 

Meanwhile,  although  he  had  obtained  a  patent 
for  a  steam-carriage  to  run  on  a  common  road,  the 
scheme  was  considered  so  visionary,  he  could  not 
induce  a  capitalist  to  embark  with  him  in  the  en- 
terprise. In  1800  he  determined  to  construct  one 
at  his  own  expense.  The  result  was  an  engine  of 
a  new  construction,  but  which  appeared  to  have 
been  so  useful  for  other  purposes,  that  he  again 
temporarily  abandoned  his  steam-carriage  in  order 


OLIVEK    EYAiiS.  159 

to  perfect  the  engine,  for  which  he  hoped  to  obtain 
a  patent.  He  constructed  his  model,  which  was 
on  a  large  scale,  and,  in  order  to  bring  it  to  per- 
fection, expended  upon  it  every  shilling  he  owned. 
But  he  still  encountered  prejudice,  even  from 
scientific  men.     We  quote  his  own  words  : 

"  I  could  break  and  grmd  three  hundred  bushels 
of  plaster  of  Paris,  or  twelve  tons,  in  twenty-four 
hours ;  and,  to  show  its  operations  more  fully  to 
the  public,  I  applied  it  to  saw  stone,  on  the  side  of 
Market  street,  where  the  driving  of  twelve  saws  in 
heavy  frames,  sawing  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred 
feet  of  marble  in  twelve  hours,  made  a  great  show, 
and  excited  much  attention.  I  thought  this  was 
sufficient  to  convince  the  thousands  of  spectators 
of  the  utility  of  my  discovery,  but  I  frequently 
heard  them  inquire  if  the  power  could  be  applied 
to  saw  timber  as  well  as  stone,  to  grind  grain, 
propel  boats,  etc.,  and,  though  I  answered  in  the 
affirmative,  they  still  doubted.  I,  therefore,  de- 
termined to  apply  my  engine  to  all  new  uses,  to 
introduce  it  and  them  to  the  public.  This  experi- 
ment completely  tested  the  correctness  of  my 
principles.  The  power  of  my  engine  nses  in  a 
geometrical  proportion,  while  the  consumption  of 
fuel  has  only  an  arithmetical  ratio,  in  such  propor- 
tion that  every  time  I  added  one-fourth  more  to 
the  consumption  of  the  fuel,  its  powers  were 
doubled,  and  that  twice  the  quantity  of  fuel  re- 
quired to  drive  one  saw  would  drive  sixteen  saws 
at  least;  for  when  I  drove  two  saws,  the  con- 


160  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

sumption  was  eight  bushels  of  coal  in  twelve 
hours,  but  when  twelve  saws  were  driven  the  con- 
sumption was  not  more  than  ten  bushels ;  so  that, 
the  more  we  resist  the  steam,  the  greater  is  the 
effect  of  the  engine.  On  these  principles  very 
light  but  powerful  engines  can  be  made,  suitable 
for  propelling  boats  and  land-carriages,  without 
the  great  encumbrance  of  their  weight,  as  men- 
tioned in  Latrobe's  demonstration." 

Mr.  Evans  applied  his  engine  in  1804  to  a 
dredging  apparatus  used  in  the  Schuylkill,  per- 
forming all  the  operations  required  of  it,  and 
propelling  the  vessel  by  a  wheel  in  her  stern. 
But  the  sceptics  would  not  believe,  and  con- 
demned this  machine  for  its  slowness  and  weight. 
The  inventor  declared,  that  for  a  wager  of  three 
thousand  dollars  he  could  build  a  carriage  to  be 
propelled  by  steam  which  would  outrun  the 
swiftest  horse.  But  he  encountered  only  doubt 
and  derision,  and  a  proposition  which  he  made  to 
the  Lancaster  Turnpike  Company  to  construct  car- 
riages on  the  principle  he  had  invented  received 
no  attention  from  the  company.  He  was  dis- 
heartened, without  money,  patronage,  or  sympa- 
thy, and  yet  in  possession  of  a  secret  of  transcend- 
ant  importance,  which,  if  duly  recognised,  would 
have  anticipated  the  steam-car  and  the  steam-boat 
by  many  years — would  have  poured  untold  Avealth 
into  the  hands  of  the  capitalist  that  had  aided 
and  believed  in  him.  But  he  was  treated  as  an 
idler  and  a  visionary — he  excited  only  scorn  and 


OLIVER   EVANS.  161 

contempt.  His  productions  were  looked  upon  as 
madness,  and  yet,  by  the  following  quotation,  we 
will  perceive  that  his  prophesies  only  fell  short  of 
the  truth : 

"  The  time  will  come,"  says  he,  "  when  people 
will  travel  in  stages  moved  by  steam-engines  from 
one  city  to  another  almost  as  fast  as  birds  fly — 
fifteen  or  twenty  miles  an  hour.  Passing  through 
the  air  with  such  velocity,  changing  the  scene  M 
such  rapid  succession,  will  be  the  most  exhilarating 
exercise.  A  steam-carriage  will  set  out  from 
Washington  in  the  morning,  the  passenger  will 
breakfast  in  Baltimore,  dine  at  Philadelphia,  and 
sup  in  New  York,  the  same  day.  To  accomplish 
this,  two  sets  of  rail-ways  will  be  laid,  so  nearly 
level  as  not  in  any  way  to  deviate  more  than  two 
degrees  from  a  horizontal  line,  made  of  wood  or 
iron,  or  smooth  paths  of  broken  stone  or  gravel, 
with  a  rail  to  guide  the  carriages,  so  that  they 
may  pass  each  other  in  different  directions,  and 
travel  by  night  as  well  as  by  day.  Engines  will 
drive  boats  ten  or  twelve  miles  per  hour,  and  there 
will  be  many  hundred  steam-boats  running  on  the 
Mississippi." 

It  took  thirteen  years  to  introduce  his  mill  in- 
ventions, and  the  expenses  were  so  great  that  his 
receipts  did  not  meet  them.  He  failed  to  obtain 
patents  by  some  informality,  and  in  consequence 
of  a  combination  of  the  millers  against  him,  so 
that  these  important  improvements  failed  to  yield 
him  any  reward.  Mr.  Evans  appeared  to  be  un- 
11 


162  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

fortunate,  and  the  world  treated  him  with  such 
neglect  that  he  died  poor  and  broken-hearted. 
"  There  is  no  doubt  that,  had  Evans  been  favored 
by  circumstances,  and  by  kindly  patronage  and 
support,  he  would  have  proved  himself  one  of  the 
most  distinofuished  inventors  of  the  aoje.  His  ex- 
periments  on  the  subject  of  steam-boat  navigation 
were  made  several  years  before  those  of  Fulton, 
and  his  high-pressure  engine  was  the  parent  of  all 
steam  appliances  on  rail-road  or  river."  His  death 
took  place  on  the  21st  of  April,  1819. 


SAMUEL  TAYLOR  COLEEEDGE. 

Coleridge,  tjie  poet,  whose  simple,  unworldly 
character  is  as  well  known  as  his  genius,  seems  to 
have  inherited  his  particular  disposition  from  his 
father,  who  was  the  Rev.  John  Coleridge,  the  vicar 
of  Ottery  St.  Mary,  in  Devonshire,  England. 

Samuel  T.  Coleridge,  the  youngest  of  thirteen 
children,  was  born  October  21st,  1772.  He  seems 
to  have  been  a  delicate  child,  of  timid  disposition. 
Being  much  younger  than  his  brothers,  he  never 
came  to  be  a  playfellow  of  theirs,  and  thus  to 
acquire  physical  hardihood  and  activity.  "  I  was," 
he  says,  "  in  earliest  childhood  huffed  away  from 
the  enjoyment  of  muscular  activity  m  play,  to 
take  refuge  at  my  mothei*'s  side,  or  on  my  little 
stool  to  read  my  book,  and  to  listen  to  the  talk  of 
my  elders.  I  was  driven  from  life  in  motion,  to 
life  in  thought  and  sensation.  I  never  played 
except  by  myself,  and  then  only  acting  over  what 
I  had  been  reading  or  fancying  ;  or  half  one,  half 
the  other,  with  a  stick  cutting  down  weeds  and 
nettles,  as  one  of  the  seven  champions  of  Chris- 
tendom. Alas !  I  had  all  the  simplicity,  all  the 
docility  of  a  child,  but  none  of  the  child's  habits. 


164:  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

I  never  thought  as  a  child,  never  had  the  language 
of  a  child.  I  forget  whether  it  was  in  my  fifth  or 
sixth  year,  but  I  believe  the  latter,  in  consequence 
of  some  quarrel  between  me  and  my  brother,  in 
the  first  week  in  October,  I  ran  away  from  fear 
of  being  whipped,  and  passed  the  whole  night,  a 
night  of  rain  and  storm,  on  a  bleak  side  of  a  hill 
on  the  Otter,  and  was  there  found  at  daybreak 
without  the  power  of  using  my  limbs,  about  six 
yards  from  the  naked  bank  of  the  river." 

When  but  seven  years  old,  his  father  died,  and 
at  the  age  of  ten,  he  was  placed  at  a  school  in 
London,  through  the  influence  of  Judge  Buller, 
who  had  been  educated  by  his  father.  This  school 
— Christ's  Hospital — seems  to  have  been  at  that 
time  conducted  in  a  most  miserable  and  wretched 
manner ;  the  children  were  neglected,  unkindly 
treated,  and  half  starved,  excepting  those  who 
had  friends  in  the  city,  who  would  supply  them 
with  a  variety  of  luxuries.  While  at  this  school, 
the  foundation  of  many  bodily  sufferings  were  laid 
which  made  his  life  one  of  sickness  and  torture. 

"  I  was  a  poor,  friendless  boy,"  Coleridge  says  ; 
"  my  family,  and  those  who  should  have  cared  for 
me,  were  fir  away.  Those  few  acquaintances  of 
theirs,  which  they  could  reckon  on,  being  kind  to 
me,  in  the  great  city,'  after  a  little  forced  notice, 
which  they  had  the  grace  to  take  of  me  on  my 
first  arrival  in  town,  soon  grew  tired  of  my  holi- 
day visits.  They  seemed  to  them  to  recur  too 
often,  though  I  thought  them  few  enough;  one 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  165 

after  another,  they  all  failed  me,  and  I  felt  myself 
alone  among  six  hundred  playmates.  To  this  late 
hour  of  my  life  do  I  trace  the  impressions  left  by 
the  painful  recollections  of  those  friendless  holi- 
days. The  long,  warm  days  of  summer  never  re- 
turn, but  they  bring  with  them  a  gloom  from  the 
haunting  memories  of  those  whole  day^a  leave, 
when,  by  some  strange  arrangement,  we  were 
turned  out  for  the  Hve-long  day,  upon  our  own 
hands,  whether  we  had  friends  to  go  to  or  not.  I 
remember  those  bathing  excursions  to  the  New 
river ;  how  we  would  sally  forth  into  the  fields, 
and  strip  under  the  first  warmth  of  the  sun,  and 
wanton  like  young  dace  in  the  streams,  gettmg  ap- 
petites for  the  noon,  which  those  of  us  that  were 
penniless  had  not  the  means  of  allaymg ;  while  the 
cattle  and  the  birds,  and  the  fishes,  were  at  feed 
about  us,  and  we  had  nothing  to  satisfy  our 
cravings ;  the  very  beauty  of  the  day,  the  exer- 
cise of  the  pastime,  and  the  sense  of  hberty,  set- 
ting a  keener  edge  upon  them  I  How,  faint  and 
languid,  finally  we  would  return,  toward  nightfall, 
to  our  desired  morsel,  half  rejoicing,  half  reluctant, 
that  the  hours  of  uneasy  liberty  had  expired ! 

"It  was  worse,  in  the  days  of  winter,  to  go 
prowling  about  the  streets  objectless ;  shivering  at 
cold  windows  of  print  shops,  to  extract  a  little 
amusement,  or,  haply,  as  a  last  resort,  in  the  hope 
of  a  little  novelty,  to  pay  a  fifty-times-repeated 
visit  to  the  lions  in  the  Tower,  to  whose  levee,  by 
courtesy  immemorial,  we  had  a  prescriptive  right 


166  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

of  admission,  and  where  our  individual  faces 
would  be  as  well  known  to  the  warden  as  those 
of  his  own  charges." 

What  an  amount  of  cruelty  may  be  perpetrated 
even  under  the  show  of  favor ! — what  hard  days 
for  the  stomach,  under  the  guise  of  holidays! 
Coleridge  was,  from  all  accounts,  at  this  time  "  a 
delicate  and  sufferiiig  boy,"  and  readily  fell  into 
sedentary,  reading  habits ;  books  were  his  solace ; 
he  was  to  be  found  during  play  hours  walking  to 
and  fro,  or  sitting  on  a  step,  or  in  a  corner,  deeply 
engaged  in  some  book,  paying  no  attention  to  what 
was  passing  around  him,  and  ofttimes  so  deep  in 
thought  as  would  cause  him  to  be  abstracted  and 
absent-minded.  Between  the  ages  of  eight  to 
fourteen  he  was,  as  he  himself  terms  it,  "  a  play- 
less  day-dreamer."  An  amusing  incident  is  re- 
lated of  how,  on  one  occasion,  his  abstraction 
proved  to  be  the  source  of  much  pleasure  and 
benefit  to  him.  Going  down  the  Strand,  in  one 
of  his  day-dreams,  fancying  himself  swimming 
across  the  Hellespont,  thrusting  his  hands  before 
him  as  in  the  act  of  swimming,  one  hand  came  in 
contact  with  a  gentleman's  pocket.  The  gentle- 
man seized  his  hand,  turned  round,  and  looked  at 
him  with  some  anger,  exclaiming — "  What !  so 
young,  and  so  wicked !"  at  the  same  time  accusing 
him  of  an  attempt  to  pick  his  pocket.  The  fright- 
ened boy  sobbed  out  his  denial  of  the  intention, 
and  explained  to  him  how  he  thought  himself 
Leander  swimming   across   the   Hellespont.     The 


BAMUEL   TAYLOR   COLERIDGE.  167 

gentleman  was  so  struck  and  delighted  with  the 
novelty  of  the  thing,  and  w4th  the  simplicity  and 
intelligence  of  the  boy,  that  he  subscribed  to  the 
library  for  him,  in  consequence  of  which  Coleridge 
was  further  enabled  to  indulge  his  love  of  read- 
ing, which  he  did  to  such  an  extent  that  he  soon 
exhausted  the  folios,  catalogue  and  all,  of  the 
library,  and  was  always  in  a  low  fever  of  excite- 
ment. He  delighted  to  crumple  himself  up  in  a 
sunny  corner,  he  says,  and  read,  read,  read ;  fancy- 
ing himself  on  Robinson  Crusoe's  island,  finding  a 
mountain  of  plum  cake,  and  eating  a  room  for 
himself,  and  then  eating  out  chairs  and  tables — 
hunger  and  fancy. 

After  a  while,  when  his  brother  Luke  became  a 
Physician  of  the  London  Hospitals,  he  would  spend 
every  Saturday  with  him,  delighted  if  he  were  per- 
mitted to  hold  the  plasters,  or  attend  dressings. 
He  plunged  headlong  into  books  of  medicine — 
Latin,  Greek,  or  English ;  devoured  whole  medical 
dictionaries ;  then,  from  physic  to  metaphysics ; 
thus  speudmg  his  time  until  he  was  nineteen, 
when  he  was  elected  from  Christ's  Hospital  to 
Jesus'  College,  Cambridge.  Here  he  made  great 
progress  in  classical  study,  and  gained  much  honor 
by  his  poetical  fame.  During  the  first  year  he 
won  the  prize  for  the  Greek  ode ;  but  as  college 
honors  were  dependent  on  a  thorough  knowledge 
of  mathematics — a  study  which  Coleridge  had 
always  hated — he  therefore  despaired  of  attaining 
the  honors,  and  left  the  university  after  remaining 


168  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

there  about  two  years.  On  quitting  college,  it 
seems  that  his  debts  were  about  one  hundred 
pounds — no  groat  matter,  but  to  him  as  over- 
whelming as  if  they  had  been  a  thousand.  He 
made  his  way  to  London,  and  there,  of  all  things 
in  the  world,  enlisted  for  a  soldier.  The  story  is 
very  curious,  and  as  it  is  related  by  friends,  who 
were  intimate  with  him  at  different  periods  of  his 
life,  it  is  no  doubt  true. 

In  a  state  of  great  dejection  of  mind,  he  strolled 
about  the  streets  of  London  till  night  came  on, 
when  he  seated  himself  on  the  steps  of  a  house 
in  Chancery-lane,  speculating  on  the  future.  In 
this  situation,  overwhelmed  with  his  own  j)ainful 
thoughts,  and  in  misery  himself,  he  had  now  to 
contend  with  the  misery  of  others — for  he  was 
accosted  by  various  kinds  of  beggars,  importuning 
him  for  money,  and  forcing  on  him  their  real  or 
pretended  sorrows.  To  these  applicants  he  emp- 
tied his  pockets  of  his  remaining  cash.  Walking 
along  Chancery-lane,  he  noticed  a  bill  posted  on  the 
wall — "Wanted,  a  few  smart  lads  for  the  15th 
Elliott's  Light  Dragoons."  He  paused  a  moment, 
and  said  to  himself,  "  Well,  I  have  had  all  my  life 
a  violent  antipathy  to  soldiers  and  horses,  the 
sooner  I  cure  myself  of  these  absurd  prejudices 
the  better ;  and  so  I  will  enlist  in  this  regiment." 
He  went  immediately  to  the  place  of  enlistment, 
met  there  a  kind-hearted  old  sergeant,  who  tried 
to  dissuade  him  from  this  new  project;  but  Coler- 
idsre  did  not  waver  in  his  resolution  to  become  a 


SAMUEL  TAYLOK  COLERIDGE.       169 

soldier,  and  accordingly  was  marched  with  his  new 
comrades  to  Reading.  He  withheld  his  true  name, 
and  gave  that  of  Silas  Tomken  Comberbacke.  The 
general  of  the  district,  when  inspecting  the  recruits, 
demanded  of  Coleridge  what  he  came  there  for. 
"  Sir,"  answered  Coleridge,  "  for  what  most  other 
persons  come — to  be  made  a  soldier."  "  Do  you 
think,"  said  the  general,  "  you  can  run  a  French- 
man through  the  body?"  "I  don't  know,"  re- 
plied Coleridge,  "  as  I  never  tried,  but  I'll  let  a 
Frenchman  run  me  through  before  I'll  run  away." 
"That  will  do,"  said  the  general,  and  Coleridge 
was  turned  into  the  ranks. 

His  amiable  and  benevolent  conduct  soon  gained 
him  kind  friends  among  his  comrades,  who  would 
often  assist  him  in  many  of  the  laborious  duties 
devolving  upon  him,  while  he,  in  return,  wrote 
all  their  letters  for  them  to  their  sweethearts 
and  wives. 

Coleridge,  or  Comberbacke,  amused  his  com- 
panions and  excited  their  wonder  by  his  enter- 
taining stories  and  recital  of  facts.  On  one  occa- 
sion, while  telling  them  of  Alexander  the  Great, 
one  of  his  listeners  said,  "  I  never  heard  of  him." 
"  I  tliink  I  have,"  said  another,  ashamed  of  being 
thought  ignorant — "  Silas,  wasn't  he  a  Cornish- 
man?  I  knew  one  of  the  Alexanders  at  Truro." 
Coleridge  now  went  on  describing  to  them,  in 
glowing  colors,  the  valor,  the  wars,  and  the  con- 
quests of  this  famous  general.  "Ah,"  said  one 
man,  whose  open  mouth  had   complimented  the 


170  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

speaker  for  the  preceding  half  hour,  "  Silas,  this 
Alexander  must  have  been  as  great  a  man  as  our 
colonel !"  Coleridge  now  told  them  of  the  "  Re- 
treat of  the  Ten  Thousand."  "I  don't  hke  to 
hear  of  retreat,"  said  one ;  "  Nor  I,"  said  a  second 
— "  I'm  for  marching  on."  At  another  time 
Coleridge  told  them  of  the  invasion  of  Xerxes, 
and  his  crossing  the  wide  Hellespont,  to  which  a 
young  recruit,  thinking  himself  well  acquainted 
with  geography,  and  wishing  to  show  off  a  little 
before  his  comrades,  said,  "  Silas,  I  know  where 
that  Hellespont  is.  I  think  it  must  be  the  mouth 
of  the  Thames,  for  "^tis  very  wide."  Coleridge 
also  told  them  of  the  heroes  of  Thermopylae ; 
when  the  geographer  interrupted  him  by  saying — 
"  Silas,  I  know,  too,  where  that  there  '  Moppily'  is 
— it's  somewhere  up  in  the  Noth."  "You  are 
quite  right,  Jack,"  said  Coleridge ;  "  it  is  to  the 
north  of  the  Hne." 

Coleridge  had  been  in  the  army  about  six 
months,  when  his  friends  discovered  his  where- 
abouts, and  induced  him  to  return  to  Cambridge. 
Comberbacke  was  no  more !  but  his  memory  was 
long  and  affectionately  preserved  amongst  his 
companions,  one  of  whom  he  had  volunteered  to 
attend  during  a  most  malignant  attack  of  small- 
pox, when  all  others  deserted  him ;  and  had  waited 
on  him,  and  watched  by  him  for  six  weeks.  To 
prevent  contagion,  the  patient  and  his  noble- 
hearted  nurse  were  put  into  an  out-house,  where 
Coleridge  continued  all  that  time,  night  and  day, 


SAMUEL   TAYLOE    COLERIDGE.  171 

administering  medicine,  guarding  him  from  in- 
juring himself  during  violent  delirium,  and  when 
again  capable  of  listening,  sitting  by  his  bed,  and 
reading  to  him.  In  the  annals  of  humanity,  that 
act  must  stand  as  one  of  the  truest  heroism. 

Coleridge  did  not  remain  long  in  Cambridge, 
but  soon  went  to  visit  his  friend  Southey,  at  Ox- 
ford, where  they  and  two  other  friends  hit  upon 
the  Pantisocracy  scheme,  an  offshoot  of  Rousseau's 
views  of  primitive  life.  They  were  to  embark  for 
America,  where,  on  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna, 
they  designed  to  found  their  colony  of  peace  and 
perfection,  to  follow  their  own  ploughs,  harvest 
their  own  corn,  and  show  forth  to  the  world  the 
union  of  a  patriarchal  life  of  labor,  with  the  highest 
exercise  of  intellect  and  virtue.  Both  these  young 
poets,  with  their  minds  now  fermenting  with  new 
schemes,  commenced  at  Bristol  as  lecturers  and 
authors.  The  profits  of  the  lectures  were  to  pay 
for  the  voyage  to  America ;  they  did  not  even  pay 
the  rent.  Coleridge  lectured  on  the  English  Re- 
bellion and  Charles  I.,  the  French  Revolution,  and 
on  Religion  and  Philosophy ;  Southey,  on  General 
History — both  displaying  their  peculiar  talents  and 
characters,  Coleridge  all  imagination,  absence  of 
mind,  and  impracticability;  Southey,  with  less 
genius,  but  more  ardor,  prudence,  and  worldly 
tact.  The  circumstances  which  had  brought  Col- 
eridge to  Bristol,  though  they  did  not  end  in 
pantisocracy,  ended  in  marriage,  which  for  some 
years  fixed  him  in  that  part  of  the  country.   Cottle, 


172  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

a  bookseller  and  publisher,  offered  Coleridge  thirty 
guineas  for  a  volume  of  poems,  the  cash  to  be  ad- 
vanced when  he  pleased  from  time  to  time.  On 
this  slender  foundation,  Coleridge  began  the  world. 
He  took  a  cottage  at  Clevedon,  some  miles  from 
Bristol,  and  thither  he  took  his  bride.  It  appears 
truly  to  have  been  the  poetic  idea — ^love  in  a 
cottage,  for  there  was  love  and  little  more.  Cottle 
says  it  had  walls,  and  doors,  and  windows,  but  as 
for  furniture,  only  such  as  became  a  philosopher. 
This  was  not  enough  even  for  poetic  lovers.  Two 
days  after  the  wedding,  the  poet  wrote  to  Cottle 
to  send  him  the  following  unpoetical  but  very  es- 
sential ai-ticles  : — "  A  riddle-slice ;  a  candle-box  ; 
two  ventilators;  two  glasses  for  the  wash-hand 
stand  ;  one  tin  dust-pan  ;  one  small  tin  tea-kettle ; 
one  pair  of  candlesticks ;  one  carpet  brush ;  one 
flour-dredge  ;  three  tin  extinguishers ;  two  mats ; 
a  pair  of  slippers ;  a  cheese-toaster ;  two  large  tin 
spoons ;  a  bible ;  a  keg  of  porter ;  coffee,  raisins, 
currants,  catsup,  nutmegs,  allspice,  rice,  ginger, 
and  mace."  The  cottage  was  pleasantly  situated 
in  the  extremity  of  the  village.  It  had  the  benefit 
of  being  but  one  story  high ;  and  as  the  rent  was 
only  five  pounds  per  annum,  and  the  taxes  nought, 
Mr.  Coleridge  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing 
that,  by  fairly  mounting  his  Pegasus,  he  could 
make  as  many  verses  in  a  week  as  would  pay  his 
rent  for  a  year. 

"  The  manhood  of  Coleridge's  true  poetical  life," 
has  been   observed  by  a  contemporaiy,  "  was  in 


SAMUEL   TAYLOR    COLERIDGE.  173 

the  year  1797."  He  was  yet  only  twenty-five  years 
of  age ;  but  his  poetical  faculty  had  now  acquired 
a  wide  grasp  and  a  deep  power.  At  this  period 
he  wrote  his  tragedy  of  Kemorse,  Cristabelle, 
the  Dark  Ladie,  the  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mari- 
ner ;  and  at  once  stepped  into  the  front  rank  of 
British  poets.  He  was  sought  out  by  the  first 
intellect  of  the  country,  and  his  extraordinary 
talents  became  acknowledged  every  where.  His 
long  eventful  literary  cai-eer  it  is  not  within  our 
plan  to  follow.  His  character  presents  many  ad- 
mirable points ;  his  simplicity,  gentleness  and  truth 
excite  our  admiration,  while  his  trusting,  dreamy 
nature,  which  m  another  man  would  be  a  weak- 
ness, in  him  became  a  charm.  His  acquirements 
were  remarkable,  and  he  became  the  centre  of  a 
literary  circle,  who  flocked  to  listen  to  his  conver- 
sation, to  which  he  is  as  much  indebted  for  his 
celebrity  as  to  any  of  his  published  works.  He 
was  the  greatest  talker  of  his  age,  and  those  who 
heard  him  have  declared  that  no  adequate  idea 
of  the  intellect  of  the  man  could  be  formed  with- 
out attending  his  extraordinary  conversations. 
Yet,  by  some  strange  neglect,  or  some  wish  of  his 
own,  these  remarkable  harangues  were  never  taken 
down;  which,  if  they  merited  the  praises  con- 
ferred upon  them,  is  a  loss  to  the  world,  as  well  as 
to  his  full  fame. 


KOBEET  FULTOK 

Robert  Fulton,  whose  name  is  immortally  as- 
sociated with  steam-boat  navigation,  was  born  in 
the  town  of  Little  Brittain,  Pennsylvania,  in  1765. 
At  a  very  early  age  he  lost  his  father,  and  this 
rendered  his  primary  education  very  limited. 
But  his  genius  was  conspicuous  even  in  his  child- 
hood. Before  he  was  twelve  years  of  age,  his 
inventive  talents  were  known  to  the  entire  neigh- 
borhood, and  he  also  discovered  remarkable  talents 
for  painting.  Even  when  a  boy,  he  gained  his 
living  by  his  pencil  in  painting  landscapes  and 
portraits.  He  even  saved  before  he  was  twenty- 
one  sufficient  above  his  expenses  to  purchase  a 
small  farm,  at  the  same  time  supporting  a  widowed 
mother.  Franklin  became  acquainted  with  him, 
saw  his  talents,  and  incited  him  to  their  further 
development.  He  was  encouraged  to  go  to 
England,  and  put  himself  under  the  care  of  his 
countryman,  Benjamin  West,  who  at  that  time  was 
the  ruling  spirit  of  the  art-world.  This  he  did, 
and  was  received  by  that  great  and  good  painter 
with  every  friendship  and  warmth ;  he  was  invited 
to  become  an  inmate  of  his  house,  and  from  that 


KOBEKT   FULTON.  175 

hour  Fulton  was  not  only  the  guest  but  the  pupil 
of  the  great  master. 

For  several  years  Fulton  pursued  his  studies 
with  devotion  and  success  ;  but  his  inventive 
genius  was  predominant,  and  his  head  was  already 
teeming  with  plans  for  the  improvement  of  inland 
navigation  and  other  matters  of  utility.  He  drew 
around  him  the  sympathies  of  a  large  number  of 
distinguished  associates,  among  whom  may  be 
named  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  and  the  Earl  of 
Stanhope.  We  shortly  after  find  Fulton  residing 
at  Birmingham,  having  abandoned  the  profession 
of  painter  for  that  of  civil  engineer — engaged  in 
conjunction  with  the  Duke  of  Bridgewater  in  con- 
structing those  canals  which  gave  so  much  im- 
portance to  that  town.  Fulton  threw  himself  into 
the  subject  of  canal  navigation  with  great  zeal, 
and  wrote  a  book  concerning  it.  He  also  invented 
a  formidable  torpedo,  which  he  asserted  would 
destroy  the  navy  of  an  enemy  with  the  greatest 
ease  and  expedition.  He  went  to  France,  and 
offered  his  invention  to  the  government,  who  were 
indisposed  to  purchase  it.  At  Paris  he  met  his 
countryman,  the  celebrated  Joel  Barlow,  in  whose 
family  he  became  an  inmate.  Fulton  resided  seven 
years  in  Paris,  during  which  time  he  assiduously 
pursued  the  study  of  the  natural  sciences  and  of 
modern  languages.  Having  heard  of  Fitch's  ex- 
periments in  the  application  of  steam  to  the  pro- 
pulsion of  boats,  a  new  and  glorious  vision  filled 
his  mind  with  its  splendors.   Becoming  acquainted 


176  FA^IOUS   BOYS. 

with  the  distinguished  Robert  R.  Livingstone,  that 
gentleman  iired  the  zeal  of  Fulton  by  represent- 
ing the  immense  advantages  to  be  derived  from 
the  use  of  steam  in  navigating  the  inland  waters 
of  the  United  States.  "  Wealth,  talent  and  genius 
joined  hands,  and  Fulton  and  Livingstone  navi- 
gated the  Seine  by  a  steamboat  in  1803.  Arrange- 
ments were  immediately  entered  into  for  the 
prosecution  of  the  scheme  in  America.  They  came 
to  America,  and,  in  1807,  the  Clermont^  Fulton's 
experiment  boat,  was  completed,  and  a  trial  trip 
was  immediately  announced.  The  leading  scien- 
tific, literary,  and  political  men  of  the  city  were 
invited  to  witness  it.  A  large  assemblage  was 
gathered,  disposed  to  be  critical,  and  to  ridicule  the 
whole  afiair  as  an  absurdity.  Almost  all  agreed 
that  the  project  was  a  wild  one,  and  only  entitled 
to  contempt.  But  when  they  saw  the  mastless 
vessel  move  from  her  dock  on  the  Jersey  shore, 
and  cleave  her  course  through  the  water  swiftly, 
steadily,  majestically,  there  was  a  sudden  revolu- 
tion of  feeling — acclamations  burst  from  either 
shore,  and  the  first  steam-ship  in  the  world — the 
*'Clermont' — moved  like  a  mighty  conqueror,  amid 
shouts  of  wonder  and  admiration." 

In  a  few  days  the  "  Clermont"  started  on  her 
first  long  trip,  of  which  Mr.  Fulton  writes  as 
follows  : — "  My  steam-boat  voyage  to  Albany  and 
back  has  turned  out  rather  more  favorable  than  I 
had  calculated.  The  distance  from  New  York  to 
Albany  is  one  hundred   and  fifty  miles ;  I  ran  it 


EOBEKT    FLLTON.       ,  177 

up  in  thirty-two  hours,  and  down  in  thirty.  I  had 
a  light  breeze  against  me  the  whole  way,  both 
going  and  coming,  and  the  voyage  has  been  per- 
formed wholly  by  the  power  of  the  steam-engine. 
I  overtook  many  sloops  and  schooners  beating  to 
windward,  and  parted  with  them  as  if  they  had 
been  at  anchor.  The  power  of  propelling  boats  by 
steam  is  now  fully  proved.  The  morning  I  left 
New  York  there  were  not,  perhaps,  thirty  persons 
in  the  city  who  believed  that  the  boat  would  ever 
move  one  mile  an  hour,  or  be  of  the  least  utility; 
and  while  we  were  putting  off  from  the  wharf, 
which  was  crowded  with  spectators,  I  heard  a 
number  of  sarcastic  remarks.  This  is  the  way  in 
which  ignorant  men  compliment  what  they  call 
philosophers  and  projectors.  Having  employed 
much  time,  money,  and  zeal  in  accomplishing  this 
work,  it  gives  me,  as  it  will  you,  great  pleasure 
to  see  it  fully  answer  my  expectations.  It  will 
give  a  cheap  and  quick  conveyance  to  the  merchan- 
dise on  the  Mississippi,  Missouri,  and  other  great 
rivers,  which  are  now  laying  open  their  treasures 
to  the  enterprise  of  our  countrymen  ;  and  although 
the  prospect  of  personal  emolument  has  been  some 
inducement  to  me,  yet  I  feel  infinitely  more  pleas- 
ure in  reflecting  on  the  immense  advantage  that 
my  country  will  derive  from  the  invention." 

Fulton  received  his  first  patent  in  1 809,  and  for 

several  years  he  was  engaged  in  the  perfection  of 

steamboat  machinery.     He  was  also  successful  in 

the  Gcostruction  of  submarine  batteries;   and  in 

12 


ITS  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

1814  he  was  delighted  by  the  appropriation  of 
Congress  of  three  hundred  and  twenty  thousand 
dollars  for  the  construction  of  a  steam  ship  of  w^ar 
under  his  direction.  This  frigate  was  not  in  readi- 
ness for  use  until  after  the  close  of  the  war  in 
which  she  was  to  be  engaged  for  sea-coast  de- 
fence. But  before  she  was  completed,  Fulton 
had  paid  the  debt  of  nature.  He  died  February 
24th,  1815,  aged  fifty  years;  an  early  death  for 
one  w^ho  had  done  so  much  for  his  country,  and 
who  was  early  advancing  to  still  greater  honor 
and  renown  than  he  had  hitherto  won.  He  had 
already  contemplated  crossing  the  ocean  by  steam, 
and  had  he  lived  would  no  doubt  have  accom- 
plished it. 


JOHN  KITTO. 

In  the  social  scale  we  cannot  get  very  much 
lower  than  the  workhouse.  When  any  body  gets 
there,  it  is  usually  supposed  that  every  resource 
has  failed,  and  that  he  is  very  near  "  the  last  scene 
of  all."  And  yet,  even  from  that  comfortless  and 
almost  hopeless  place,  we  are  about  to  accompany 
one  of  its  younger  inhabitimts  upon  a  journey  of 
usefulness  and  honor,  which  might  well  be  envied 
by  some  of  the  greatest  and  most  respected  of 
men. 

Our  hero,  for  he  was  a  hero  in  the  true  sense, 
was  born  at  Plymouth  in  the  December  of  1804. 
He  had  a  rough  life  before  hun — difficulties  of  a 
gigantic  character  to  overcome ;  it  would  have 
been  a  mercy  if  he  had  had  a  good  strong  healthy 
constitution.  This  was  not  to  be.  When  born, 
he  was  so  puny  and  sickly  that  he  was  not  ex- 
pected to  live  many  hours ;  and  although  great 
care  was  taken  of  him,  it  was  long  before  he  was 
able  to  walk.  This  constitutional  weakness  pre- 
vented him,  as  he  grew  up,  taking  part  in  the 
sports  and  pastimes  of  other  boys.  Indisposition 
to  take  exercise  grew  upon  him,  and  was  no  doubt 


180  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

the  source  of  mucli  after  misery.  But  that  which 
appeaj-ed  to  be  so  great  an  evil  was  providentially 
turned  to  a  blessing.  When  other  boys  were  em- 
ployed in  their  games,  he  w^as  to  be  seen  poring 
over  a  book  behind  a  hedge  or  on  a  sunny  bank. 
Not  that  any  facilities  were  afforded  him  to  read, 
by  his  parents ;  he  was  not  even  sent  to  school 
until  he  was  eight  years  of  age;  his  books  were 
borrowed  or  begged  with  great  difficulty ;  his 
home  was  by  no  means  a  home  of  comfort,  but 
rather  a  scene  of  misery  and  wretchedness ;  and 
by  the  time  he  had  attained  his  twelfth  year, 
through  much  sickness  and  sorrow,  he  was  placed 
with  his  father,  a  stone  mason,  to  act  as  his  lar 
borer. 

But  this  poor  boy  had  to  bear  other  miseries  be- 
side his  own.  His  father,  soon  after  his  marriage, 
became  a  confirmed  sot ;  he  was  so  lost  to  his  po- 
sition as  to  regard  neither  character  nor  reputation. 
From  being  a  master  waited  on  by  others,  he  be- 
came a  servant ;  worse  even  than  this ;  to  gratify 
the  appetite  which  consumed  him,  he  frequently 
violated  the  laws,  and  found  himself  in  "  durance 
vile" — at  one  time  so  seriously,  that  Kitto  wrote : 
"  What  will  they  now  say  of  the  felon's  son  ?" 

His  grandmother,  to  take  him  out  of  this  wretch- 
edness, transferred  him  to  her  own  garret.  She, 
poor  Avoman,  had  also  suffered  from  the  curse  of 
drink.  Her  second  husband,  after  spending  the 
evening  with  a  friend,  was  drowned  in  a  pond  as 
he   was  returning   home,   helplessly  intoxicated. 


JOHN    KITTO.  181 

The  removal  of  John  to  his  grandmother's  must 
have  been  a  comfort  to  his  own  mother,  who 
was  so  miserably  circumstanced  as  frequently 
to  work  from  five  in  the  morning  until  ten  in  the 
evening — "  that  she  might  have  something  to  put 
in  the  mouth  of  her  babes." 

Kitto  was  with  his  grandmother  from  his  fourth 
to  his  eighth  year,  who  "  pinched  herself  to  sup- 
port" him.  Her  extreme  poverty  no  doubt  pre- 
vented her  from  sending  him  to  school.  She  took 
kindly  to  the  poor  lad,  and  for  his  amusement 
made  many  strolls  in  the  neighborhood.  They 
gathered  flowers  together,  and  in  the  season  went 
nutting ;  the  branches  w^hich  were  out  of  John's 
reach  she  hooked  down  with  her  staff.  At  other 
times  they  made  excursions  to  the  sea-beach, 
when  his  aged  relative  would  be  sure  to  have  for 
him  a  little  reserve  of  ginger-bread,  plums,  apples, 
or  sugar-stick. 

When  he  had  arrived  at  his  eighth  year,  a  little 
arrangement  was  made  for  his  attending  school. 
His  attendance,  however,  was  very  irregular.  The 
poor  old  grandmother  was  too  poor  to  pay  the 
school  charges,  and  his  father  would  not  spare  a 
few  pence  for  the  purpose.  When  he  did  save  a 
little  from  the  ale-house,  John  went  to  school; 
when  the  money  was  spent  in  drink  he  remained 
away.  It  was  a  great  pity  some  charity  school 
was  not  found  for  him ;  but  the  father's  drinking 
absorbed  all  his  spare  time,  and  his  mother,  to  find 
food  for  her  little  ones,  had  to  go  out   early  to 


182  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

"  char."  The  schooling  that  John  did  get,  enabled 
him  to  understand  a  little  of  "reading,  writing, 
and  the  imperfect  use  of  figures.  His  grand- 
mother boasted  that  he  was  the  best  scholar  in 
Plymouth.  John  knew  better,  adding,  when  he 
heard  the  remark,  "  she  did  it  ignorantly,  but  af- 
fectionately." 

But  if  the  dear  old  grandmother  could  not  pay 
for  his  schooling,  she  could  teach  him  at  home. 
She  taught  him  to  be  so  proficient  in  seicing^  that 
he  boasted  of  having  done  the  best  part  of  a  "  gay 
patchwork"  for  her  bed,  besides  having  made 
"quilts  and  kettle-holders  enough  for  two  gene- 
rations." The  old  lady  had  also  a  store  of  stories 
about  ghosts,  hobgoblins,  fairies,  and  witches; 
and  a  shoemaker  of  the  name  of  Roberts  poured 
into  his  eager  ear,  as  he  sat  usmg  his  awl,  the 
tales  of  Bluebeard,  Cinderella,  Jack  the  Giant- 
killer,  and  Beauty  and  the  Beast.  Kitto  wrote, 
in  1832:  "Assuredly,  never  have  I  since  felt  so 
much  respect  and  admiration  of  any  man's  talents 
and  extent  of  information  as  those  of  poor  Rob- 
erts." He  soon  made  the  discovery  that  Roberts 
was  not  the  only  repository  for  such  wonders,  but 
that  for  a  copper  he  could  purchase  similar  as- 
tounding marvels  at  the  shop  of  Mrs.  Barnicle. 
This,  of  course,  was  an  irresistible  temptation. 
Every  spare  penny  now  went  to  the  Barnicle  vor- 
tex. Plums  or  ginger-bread  presented  no  attrac- 
tion like  the  witchery  of  a  picture-book  or  a  nursery 
rhyme.     Walks  and  out-door  rambles  gave  place 


JOHN    KITTO.  183 

to  close  reading  at  home.  After  the  toy-books, 
John  sought  amusement  in  his  grandmother's 
family  Bible,  which  was  fortunately  profusely  il- 
lustrated ;  in  her  Prayer  Book,  Pilgrim's  Progress, 
and  Gulliver's  Travels.  "The  two  last  I  soon 
devoured,"  says  he ;  "  and  so  much  did  I  admire 
them,  that,  to  increase  their  attractions,  I  deco- 
rated all  the  engravings  with  the  indigo  that  my 
grandmother  used  in  washing,  using  a  feather  for 
a  brush.  Some  one  at  last  gave  me  a  fourpenny 
box  of  colors,  and  between  that  and  my  books  I 
was  so  much  interested  at  home,  that  I  retained 
little  inclination  for  play;  and  when  my  grand- 
mother observed  this,  she  did  all  in  her  power  to 
encourage  those  studious  habits,  by  borrowing  for 
me  books  of  her  neighbors."  He  had  soon  made 
the  acquaintance  of  every  book  in  the  street.  He 
lived  upon  books — they  were  more  to  him  than 
his  food.  It  was  to  gratify  this  love  of  reading 
that  he  made  his  first  literary  effort.  He  thus 
amusingly  narrated  the  circumstance: 

"  My  cousin  came  one  day  with  a  penny  in  his 
hand,  declaring  his  intention  to  buy  a  book  with  it. 
I  was  just  then  sadly  in  want  of  a  penny  to  make 
up  fourpence,  with  which  to  purchase  the  *  History 
of  King  Pippin'  (not  Pepin),  so  I  inquired  whether 
he  bought  a  book  for  the  pictures  or  the  story  ? 
'  The  story,  to  be  sure.'  I  then  said,  that,  in  that 
case,  I  would,  for  his  penny,  write  him  both  a 
larger  and  a  better  story  than  he  could  get  in  print 
for  the  same  sum;  and  that  he  might  be  still  fur- 


184  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

ther  a  gainer,  I  would  paint  him  a  picture  at  the 
beginning,  and  he  knew  there  were  no  painted 
pictures  in  penny  books.  He  expressed  the  satis- 
faction he  should  feel  in  my  doing  so,  and  sat 
down  quietly  on  the  stool  to  note  my  operations. 
When  I  had  done  I  certainly  thought  my  cousin's 
penny  pretty  well  earned ;  and  as,  at  reading  the 
paper  and  viewing  the  picture,  he  was  of  the  same 
opinion,  no  one  else  had  any  right  to  complain  of 
the  bargam.  I  believe  this  was  the  first  penny  I 
ever  earned.  I  happened  to  recollect  this  circum- 
stance when  last  at  Plymouth,  and  felt  a  wish  to 
peruse  this  paper,  if  still  in  existence;  but  my  poor 
cousin,  though  he  remembered  the  circumstance, 
had  quite  forgotten  both  the  paper  and  its  con- 
tents, unless  that  it  was  *  something  about  what 
was  done  in  England  at  the  time  when  the  wild 
men  lived  in  it :' — even  this  was  further  than  my 
own  recollection  extended." 

His  next  literary  effort  was  a  drama  performed 
by  children.  The  terms  of  admission  were,  "ladies 
eight  pins,  and  gentlemen  ten."  It  is  plain  from 
these  first  efforts,  that  Kitto  thus  early  had  con- 
tracted a  love  for  literature  which  would  never  be 
subdued. 

These  imaginative  episodes,  however,  gave  place 
to  more  substantial  ones.  The  old  grandmother, 
in  1814,  attacked  by  paralysis,  went  lower  down 
into  the  depths  of  poverty;  so  that,  instead  of 
being  able  to  maintain  Kitto,  she  herself  had  to  go 
and  reside  with  her  daughter.     Kitto  found  his 


JOHN  KiTfo.  185 

f  ither's  house  any  thing  but  a  home  for  him.  In 
Older  that  he  might  do  something  for  a  living,  he 
was  sent  as  an  apprentice  to  a  barber,  whom  Kitto 
describes  as  having  a  face  "  so  '  sour,'  that  it  sick- 
ened one  to  look  at  it;  and  which  was,  beside, 
all  over  red  by  drinking  spirituous  liquors."  This 
engagement  soon  came  to  an  end.  Kitto  was 
simple  enough  to  leave  a  woman  in  charge  of  his 
master's  razors,  that  he  carried  home  every  night, 
under  the  pretext  that  she  wanted  the  barber ;  of 
course,  when  Kitto  returned  neither  woman  or 
razors  w^ere  to  be  seen.  His  master  not  only  dis- 
charged him,  but  was  mean  enough  to  accuse  him 
of  complicity  with  the  thief. 

There  was  nothing  for  it  now  but  going  with 
his  father  to  render  him  any  assistance  in  his 
power ;  this  enabled  him  to  be  a  sad  witness  of 
the  profligate  acts  of  his  parent.  On  the  13th  of 
February,  1817,  his  father  was  repairing  the  roof 
of  a  house  in  Plymouth.  John  was  carrying  a 
load  of  slates  to  him  ;  but  just  as  he  was  stepping 
from  the  ladder  to  the  roof  he  lost  his  footing,  and 
fell  a  distance  of  thirty-five  feet  into  the  court  be- 
low. He  remained  insensible  for  more  than  a 
week,  and  did  not  leave  his  bed  for  four  months. 
Afterward  he  partially  recovered  his  strength  ; 
but  the  accident  deprived  him  of  all  sense  of  hear- 
ing. He  became  as  deaf  as  though  he  had  never 
had  the  sense.  He  subsequently  submitted  to 
many  surgical  operations ;  but  all  was  in  vain — 
the  precious  sense  was  extinguished !     Kitto  feel- 


186  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

ingly  relates  how  he  learned  that  he  was  deaf. 
He  had  been  in  a  trance  for  nearly  a  fortnight ; 
every  sound  was  hushed;  profound  silence  reigned 
over  all. 

"  I  was  very  slow  in  learning,"  he  writes,  "  that 
my  hearing  was  entirely  gone.  The  unusual  still- 
ness of  all  things  was  grateful  to  me  in  my  utter 
exhaustion ;  and  if,  in  this  half-awakened  state,  a 
thought  of  the  matter  entered  my  mind,  I  ascribed 
it  to  the  unusual  care  and  success  of  my  friends  in 
preserving  silence  around  me.  I  saw  them  talk- 
ing, indeed,  to  one  another,  and  thought  that,  out 
of  regard  to  my  feeble  condition,  they  spoke  in 
whispers,  because  I  heard  them  not.  The  truth 
was  revealed  to  me  in  consequence  of  my  solici- 
tude about  the  book  which  had  so  much  interested 
me  on  the  day  of  my  fall.  It  had,  it  seems,  been 
reclaimed  by  the  good  old  man  who  had  lent  it  to 
me,  and  who,  doubtless,  concluded  that  I  should 
have  no  more  need  of  books  in  this  life.  He  was 
wrong,  for  there  has  been  nothing  in  this  life 
which  I  have  needed  more.  I  asked  for  this  book 
with  much  earnestness,  and  was  answered  by 
signs,  which  I  could  not  comprehend.  '  Why  do 
you  not  speak?'  I  cried;  'pray  let  me  have  the 
book.'  This  seemed  to  create  some  confusion; 
and  at  length  some  one,  more  clever  than  the  rest, 
hit  upon  the  happy  expedient  of  writing  upon  a 
slate  that  the  book  had  been  reclaimed  by  the 
owner,  and  that  I  could  not,  in  my  weak  state,  be 
allowed  to  read.     '  But,'  I  said,  in  great  astonish- 


JOHN   KITTO.  18  T 

ment,  why  do  you  write  to  me  ?  why  not  speak  ? 
Speak !  speak !'  Those  who  stood  around  the  bed 
exchanged  significant  looks  of  concern,  and  the 
writer  soon  displayed  upon  his  slate  the  awful 
words,  "You  are  deaf!" 

Fearful  were  now  the  circumstances  of  this  poor 
boy.  When  he  left  his  bed  he  was  useless  to  his 
father;  his  grandmother  was  too  poor  to  render 
him  any  assistance,  and  he  had  not  a  farthing  to 
spend  upon  a  book,  which  had  now  become, 
through  his  infirmity,  a  prime  necessity  of  his 
being.  His  resort,  in  this  dilemma,  was  to  what 
he  calls  "  a  poor  student's  ways  and  means."  lie 
went  to  the  shore,  where  the  coasters  and  fishing- 
boats  discharged  their  cargoes,  wading  with  other 
boys  for  pieces  of  rope,  iron,  or  any  other  refuse. 
Some  of  them  made  threepence  a  day,  but  Kitto 
never  succeeded  better  than  to  make  fourpence  in 
one  week.  This  source  of  profit,  poor  as  it  was, 
soon  was  closed.  One  day  he  gave  himself  a  se- 
vere wound  by  treading  on  a  broken  bottle,  and 
there  was  an  end  to  his  gatherings  from  that 
quarter. 

His  next  effort  to  obtain  the  "  ways  and  means" 
was  in  quite  a  different  direction.  He  laid  out  his 
remaining  twopence  on  paper,  and  set  about  paint- 
ing heads,  houses,  flowers,  birds,  and  trees.  These 
he  exhibited  in  his  mother's  window  for  sale ;  they 
sold,  rude  as  they  were,  to  the  extent  of  about 
twopence  halfpenny  weekly.  This  not  satisfying 
his  ambition  he  determined  to  have  a  stall  at  the 


188  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

Plymouth  fair,  from  which  the  receipts  were  larger. 
Then,  casting  about  for  other  sources  of  profit, 
he  observed  that  the  labels  in  the  windows  of  the 
houses  in  the  outskirts  were  badly  and  inaccu- 
rately written :  "  Logins  for  Singel  Men,"  "  Rooms 
to  leet,  enquire  within."  He  prepared  a  number 
of  neat  substitutes,  w^hich  he  was  partially  success- 
ful in  disposing  of.  Of  course  the  money  thus  ob- 
tained was  spent  on  books.  He  used  to  visit 
about  once  a  fortnight  a  bookstall  in  the  market. 
The  owner  kindly  allowed  him  to  read  the  books 
at  the  stall,  and  sold  him  others  very  cheaply, 
when  he  spent  the  few  coppers  he  had  so  hardly 
scraped  together.  Kitto,  in  referring  to  this 
period,  wrote : 

"  For  many  years  I  had  no  views  toward  litera- 
ture, beyond  the  instruction  and  solace  of  my  own 
mind  ;  and,  under  these  views,  and  in  the  absence 
of  other  mental  stimulants,  the  pursuit  of  it  eventu- 
ally became  a  passion,  which  devoured  all  others. 
I  take  no  merit  for  the  industry  and  application 
with  which  I  pursued  this  object,  nor  for  the  in- 
genious contrivances  by  which  I  sought  to  shorten 
the  hours  of  needful  rest,  that  I  might  have  the 
more  time  for  making  myself  acquainted  with  the 
minds  of  other  men.  The  reward  was  great  and 
immediate,  and  I  was  only  preferring  the  gratifica- 
tion which  seemed  to  me  the  highest.  Nevertheless, 
now  that  I  am,  in  fact,  another  being,  having  but 
slight  connection,  excepting  in  so  far  as  '  the  child 
is  father  to  the  man,'  with  my  former  self;  now 


JOHN   KITTO.  189 

that  much  has  become  a  business  which  was  then 
simply  a  joy ;  and  now  that  I  am  gotten  old  in  ex- 
periences if  not  in  years,  it  does  somewhat  move 
me  to  look  back  upon  that  poor  and  deaf  boy,  in 
his  utter  loneliness,  devoting  himself  to  objects  in 
which  none  around  him  could  sympathise,  and  to 
jjursuits  which  none  could  eveii  understand.  The 
eagerness  with  Avhich  he  sought  books,  and  the 
devoted  attention  with  which  he  read  them,  was 
simply  an  unaccountable  fancy  in  their  view ;  and 
the  hours  which  he  strove  to  gain  for  writing 
that  which  was  destined  for  no  other  eyes  than 
his  own,  was  no  more  than  an  innocent  folly,  good 
for  keeping  him  quiet,  and  out  of  harm's  way,  but 
of  no  possible  use  on  earth.  This  want  of  the  en- 
couragement which  sympathy  and  appreciation 
give,  and  which  cultivated  friends  are  so  anxious 
to  bestow  on  the  studious  application  of  their 
young  people,  I  now  count  among  the  sorest  trials 
of  that  day,  and  it  serves  me  now  as  a  measure 
for  the  intensity  of  my  devotion  to  such  objects, 
that  I  felt  so  much  encouragement  within  as  not 
to  need  or  care  much  for  the  sympathies  or  en- 
couragements which  are,  in  ordinary  circumstan- 
ces, held  of  so  much  importance.  I  undervalue 
them  not ;  on  the  contrary,  an  undefinable  craving 
was  often  felt  for  sympathy  and  appreciation  in 
pursuits  so  dear  to  me ;  but  to  want  this  was  one 
of  the  disqualifications  of  my  condition,  quite  as 
much  so  as  my  deafness  itself;  and  in  the  same 
degree  in  which  I  submitted  to  my  deafness  as  a 


190  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

dispensation  from  Providence  toward  me,  did  I 
submit  to  this  as  its  necessary  consequence.  It 
was,  however,  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  my  con- 
dition that  I  was  then,  as  I  ever  have  been,  too 
much  shut  up.  With  the  same  dispositions  and 
habits,  without  being  deaf,  it  would  have  been 
easy  to  have  found  companions  who  would  have 
understood  me,  and  sympathised  with  my  love  for 
books  and  study,  my  progress  in  which  might  also 
have  been  much  advanced  by  such  intercommuni- 
cation. As  it  was,  the  shyness  and  reserve  which 
the  deaf  usually  exhibit,  gave  increased  effect  to 
the  physical  disqualification,  and  precluded  me 
from  seeking,  and  kept  me  from  incidentally  find- 
ing, beyond  the  narrow  sphere  in  which  I  moved, 
the  sympathies  which  were  not  found  in  it.  As 
time  passed,  my  mind  became  filled  with  ideas 
and  sentiments,  and  with  various  knowledge  of 
things  new  and  old,  all  of  which  were  as  the 
things  of  another  world  to  those  among  whom  my 
lot  was  cast.  The  conviction  of  this  completed 
my  isolation  ;  and  eventually  all  my  human  inter- 
ests were  concentrated  in  these  points — to  get 
books,  and,  as  they  were  mostly  borrowed,  to  pre- 
serve the  most  valuable  points  in  their  contents, 
either  by  extracts  or  by  a  distinct  intention  to  im- 
press them  on  the  memory.  When  I  went  forth  I 
counted  the  hours  till  I  might  return  to  the  only 
pursuits  in  which  I  could  take  interest,  and  when 
free  to  return,  how  swiftly  I  fled  to  immure  my- 
self in  that  little  sanctuary  which  I  had  been  per- 


John  Kitto  making  shoes  in  .he  Plymouth  Workhouse 

Page  191. 


i 


JOHN    KITTO.  191 

mitted  to  appropriate,  in  one  of  those  rare  nooks 
only  afforded  by  such  old  Elizabethian  houses  as 
that  in  which  my  relatives  then  abode  !" 

But  this  comparative  happiness  was  not  long  to 
continue.  The  dear  old  .grandmother  went  to  re- 
side at  Brixton — a  severe  loss  to  Kitto.  He  was 
now  entirely  at  the  mercy  of  his  drinking  father, 
who  cared  so  little  for  him,  that  he  was  soon  a 
pitiable  spectacle  in  the  streets,  pinched  with 
hunger,  shivering  in  rags,  and  crawling  about  with 
bleeding  feet.  To  save  him  from  this  "  cold  and 
hunger  and  nakedness,"  he  was  admitted  mto  the 
Plymouth  workhouse — a  sad  culmination  to  his 
literary  and  artistic  dreams ! 

The  governor  of  the  workhouse  treated  him 
kindly,  permitting  some  indulgence.  His  first  task 
was  to  learn  to  make  list-shoes :  in  no  long  time  he 
was  a  proficient  in  the  business.  "Within  a  twelve- 
month of  his  entrance  into  the  workhouse,  he 
commenced  to  keep  a  diary,  which  he  "  with  re- 
verence inscribed  to  the  memory  of  Cecilia  Picken, 
my  grandmother,  and  the  dearest  friend  I  ever 
had."  The  diary  enters  into  minute  details  of  his 
workhouse  life.     One  entry  runs  thus : — 

"  I  was  to-day  most  wrongfully  accused  of  cut- 
ting off  the  top  of  a  cat's  tail.  They  did  not  know 
me  who  thought  me  capable  of  such  an  act  of  wan- 
ton cruelty. 

"  June  2. — I  am  making  my  own  shoes. 

"June  9. — I  have  finished  my  shoes;  they  are 
tolerably  strong  and  neat. 


192  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

*' August  14. — I  was  set  to  close  bits  of  leather. 

"August  15. — Said  bits  of  leather  that  I  had 
closed  were  approved  of,  and  I  was  sent  to  close 
a  pair  of  women's  shoes,  which  were  also  ap- 
proved of. 

"  November  14. — On  Monday  had  been  a  twelve- 
month in  the  workhouse,  during  which  time  I  have 
made  seventy-eight  pairs  of  list  shoes,  beside  mend- 
ing many  others,  and  have  received,  as  a  premium, 
one  penny  per  week. 

"  November  20. — I  burnt  a  tale,  of  whi(3h  I  had 
written  several  sheets,  which  I  called  '  The  Pro- 
bationary Trial,'  but  which  did  not,  as  far  as  I 
wrote,  please  me." 

Many  of  the  most  touching  entries  in  the  jour- 
nal relate  to  the  dear  old  grandmother.  Here  is 
one : — 

"  1819. — Granny  has  been  absent  in  Dock  this 
two  days.  Though  but  for  so  short  a  period,  I 
severely  feel  her  absence.  If  I  feel  it  so  acutely 
now,  how  shall  I  bear  the  final  separation  when 
she  shall  be  gone  to  that  '  undiscovered  country 
from  whose  bourne  no  traveler  returns  ?'  She 
cannot  be  expected  to  live  many  years  longer,  for 
now  she  is  more  than  seventy  years  of  age.  O, 
Almighty  Power,  spare  yet  a  few  years  my  granny, 
the  protector  of  my  infancy,  and  the — I  cannot  ex- 
press my  gratitude.    It  is  useless  to  attempt  it." 

On  April  18th,  he  wrote:  "She  is  dead."  The 
measure  of  his  sorrow  was  complete.  His  best 
friend  was  gone  !     After  this  great  loss,  his  father, 


JOHK   KITTO.  193 

for  a  time  at  least,  seemed  desirous  to  befriend 
this  poor  boy,  and  promised  him  the  twopence 
that  granny  had  used  to  give  him  weekly  to  get 
his  library  books.  John  was  sadly  afraid  that 
when  the  sorrow  was  blunted  by  time,  that  the 
twopence  would  be  withheld,  and  then  what  should 
he  do? 

Sometimes  his  thoughts  would  go  out  to  the 
future.  His  ambition  was  to  have  a  stationer's 
shop  and  a  circulating  library,  with  twelve  or 
fourteen  shillings  a  week  income.  His  anxious 
question  was  :  "  When  I  am  out,  how  shall  I  earn 
a  livelihood  ?"  He  thought  he  might  travel,  and 
that  some  kind  gentleman  might  take  him,  even 
though  it  were  in  the  humble  capacity  of  a  servant, 
"  to  tread  classic  Italy,  fantastic  Gaul,  proud  Spain, 
and  phlegmatic  Batavia  ;"  nay,  "  to  visit  Asia,  and 
the  ground  consecrated  by  the  steps  of  the 
Saviour." 

There  was  a  ray  of  joy  let  into  his  heart  one 
day,  by  the  master  of  the  workhouse  proposing  to 
him  the  pleasurable  task  of  writing  some  lectures 
to  be  read  to  the  boys,  upon  their  duties.  Kitto 
felt  the  restraint  of  the  workhouse,  and  yet  kind- 
ness had  partially  reconciled  him  to  it.  He  was, 
nevertheless,  most  anxious  to  quit  it.  "  Liberty," 
he  cried,  "  was  my  idol ;  liberty,  not  idleness. 
Methinks  when  I  am  out  of  the  house,  I  breathe 
almost  another  air.  Like  the  wolf  in  the  fable,  I 
would  rather  starve  at  liberty  than  grow  fat  under 
restraint.  There  is  no  fear  of  my  starving  in  the 
13 


194:  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

midst  of  plenty.  I  know  how  to  prevent  hunger. 
The  Hottentots  subsist  a  long  time  on  nothing  but 
a  little  gum  ;  they  also,  when  hungry,  tie  a  tight 
ligature  round  them.  Cannot  I  do  so,  too  ?  I  will 
sell  my  books  and  pawn  my  neckerchiefs,  by 
which  I  shall  be  able  to  raise  about  twelve  shil- 
lings, and  with  that  I  will  make  the  tour  of  Eng- 
land. The  hedges  furnish  blackberries,  nuts,  sloes, 
etc.,  and  the  fields  turnips  ;  a  hayrick  or  barn  will 
be  an  excellent  bed.  I  will  take  pen,  ink,  and 
paper  with  me,  and  note  down  my  observations  as 
I  go — a  kind  of  sentimental  tour,  not  so  much  a 
description  of  places  as  of  men  and  manners,  ad- 
ventures and  feelings." 

This  tour  was  not  made  or  experienced.  On 
the  8th  of  November,  1821,  he  was  handed  over 
to  a  much  more  prosy  condition — apprenticed  to 
John  Bowden,  shoemaker.  He  was  to  remain  with 
his  new  master  until  he  was  twenty-one,  and  he 
was  now  seventeen.  Kitto  had  a  little  reluctance 
to  quit  the  workhouse  at  first,  and  only  consented 
to  do  so  when  the  advantages  of  the  change  were 
presented  to  his  mind.  "The  going  home  at  night, 
the  possession  of  his  evenings  for  himself,  the 
power  of  reading  in  his  own  garret,  Avithout  mol- 
estation, the  dropping  of  the  poorhouse  uniform, 
food  in  plenty,  and  good  clothes — these  formed  an 
irresistible  temptation."  And  then,  when  he  was 
fairly  out  of  the  workhouse,  he  gave  expression  to 
his  feelings :  "  I  am  no  longer  a  workhouse  boy — 
I  am  an  apprentice." 


JOHN   KITTO.  195 

The  joy  of  John  was  soon  changed.  His  master 
was  a  mean-spirited  tyrant,  who  had  selected  him 
on  account  of  his  deafness — thinking  that  his  in- 
firmity would  prevent  him  making  any  complaint. 
John  thus  records  his  feelings  after  being  two 
months  with  his  master : — 

"  January  19. — O  misery,  art  thou  to  be  my  only 
portion  !  Father  of  heaven,  forgive  me  if  I  wish 
I  had  never  been  born.  O  that  I  were  dead,  if 
death  were  an  annihilation  of  being ;  but  as  it  is 
not,  teach  me  to  endure  life  :  enjoy  it  I  never  can. 
In  short,  mine  is  a  severe  master,  rather  cruel !" 

The  journal  contains  many  heart-rending  pass- 
ages of  the  master's  heartless  cruelty  to  the  poor 
deaf  boy.  He  often  forced  him  to  work  sixteen 
and  eighteen  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four — strik- 
ing and  buffeting  him  without  mercy.  His  con- 
dition was  so  dreadful,  that  he  twice  seriously  con- 
templated suicide.  Happily  he  had  the  power 
of  writing ;  his  case  was  heard  before  the  magis- 
trates, and  his  indentures  canceled.  When  he 
returned  to  his  home — the  workhouse — he  began 
to  turn  over  in  his  mind  the  possibility  of  his 
doing  something  besides  making  shoes.  "  What 
might  he  not  do  ?  Might  he  not  write  or  com- 
pose a  work,  be  it  poetry  or  prose  ? — might  it  not 
immortalise  his  name  ?  What  should  hinder  the 
achievement  ?  Might  not  every  obstacle  be  sur- 
mounted, and  John  Kitto  become  an  author  known 
to  fame  ?" 

He  wrote,  as  the  result  of  these  thoughts :  "  I 


196  FA^rOUS   BOYS. 

had  learned  that  knowledge  is  power ;  and  not 
only  was  it  power,  hut  safety.  As  nearly  as  the 
matter  can  now  he  traced,  the  progress  of  my 
ideas  appears  to  have  heen  this — firstly,  that  I  was 
not  altogether  so  helj^less  as  I  had  seemed ;  sec- 
ondly, that,  notwithstanding  my  afflicted  state,  I 
might  realize  much  comfort  in  the  condition  of  life 
in  which  I  had  heen  placed ;  thirdly,  that  I  might 
even  raise  myself  out  of  that  condition,  into  one 
of  less  privation ;  fourthly,  that  it  was  not  im- 
jjossihle  for  me  to  place  my  own  among  honorahle 
names,  hy  proving  that  no  privation  formed  an 
insuperahle  bar  to  useful  labor  and  self-advance- 
ment. To  do  what  no  one  under  the  same  circum- 
stances ever  did,  soon  that  ceased  to  be  the  limit 
of  my  ambition  !" 

Fortunately,  while  he  was  in  one  of  the  Ply- 
mouth book-shops,  he  had  been  noticed  by  the 
famed  mathematician,  Mr.  Harvey,  who,  after 
learning  his  history,  determined  to  interest  others 
in  his  behalf.  A  circular  was  drawn  up,  detailing 
the  incidents  of  Kitto's  birth  and  life,  and  sug. 
gesting  that  a  small  sum  of  money,  raised  by  sub- 
scription, should  be  appropriated  to  his  use  for 
board  and  lodgings,  until  some  permanent  situation 
could  be  procured  for  him.  This  appeal  was  suc- 
cessful. The  guardians  subscribed  five  pounds 
to  the  fund.  In  the  meantime  Kitto  boarded  with 
Mr.  Burnard,  and  had  the  privilege  of  using  the 
public  library,  and  devoting  all  his  hours  to  mental 
improvement.    Those  hours  he  used  industriously, 


JOHN    KITTO.  197 

although  he  was  subject  to  frequent  attacks  of  ill- 
ness. It  was  suggested  that  he  might  become  a 
missionary ;  a  position  to  which  he  had  never 
hoped  to  attain  in  his  most  excited  moments,  but 
when  the  prospect  was  opened  up  to  him,  it 
thrilled  him  with  delight,  as  it  presented  oppor- 
tunities of  usefulness ;  and  to  be  useful,  he  had 
already  learned,  was  the  only  way  to  secure  happi- 
ness. 

About  this  time  time  Kitto  was  introduced  to  a 
Mr.  Groves,  a  dentist  residing  at  Exeter,  who  of- 
fered to  instruct  him  in  his  profession,  to  board 
him,  and  give  him  for  his  services,  $75  for  the 
first  year,  and  $100  for  the  second.  Kitto  happily 
accepted  the  offer — and  found  in  the  character  of 
Mr.  Groves  the  example  of  a  true  Christian,  and  a 
valued  friend. 

In  the  spring  of  1825,  a  volume  of  Kitto's  let- 
ters and  essays  was  published,  for  which  more 
than  four  hundred  subscribers  were  obtained. 
The  volume  gave  evidence  of  his  close  and  multi- 
farious reading.  In  it  reference  is  made  to  Male- 
branche,  Hume,  Reid,  Stewart,  Berkely,  Des 
Cartes,  Locke  and  Stillingfleet,  Lord  Bacon,  and 
Madame  de  Stael.  He  descants  upon  the  Tuscan, 
Doric,  and  Gothic  orders  of  architecture;  criti- 
cises the  productions  of  Salvator  Rosa,  Gains- 
borough, Titian,  and  Raphael ;  and  has  some  no- 
ticeable remarks  upon  the  sculpture  of  antiquity. 
It  was  quite  evident  that  Kitto  remembered  what 
he  had  read.     But  he  did  not  read  for  amusement 


198  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

merely — he  read  for  the  thoughts  and  facts  which 
the  books  contamed.  One  day  he  wrote :  "  With- 
out books  I  should  quickly  become  an  ignorant 
and  senseless  being,  unloving  and  unloved,  if  I  am 
not  so  ah'eady.  I  apprehend  that  I  have  some- 
times offended  my  acquaintance,  by  the  importu- 
nity with  Avhich  I  haA^e  solicited  the  loan  of  books. 
But  if  I  had  a  house  full  of  books  myself,  and  knew 
any  person  to  whom  they  would  be  so  necessary 
as  to  me,  and  who  would  make  so  good  a  use  of 
them  as  I  do,  I  would  not  stay  to  be  entreated, 
nor  scruple  to  lend  any,  or  all  of  them,  in  succes- 
sion, to  such  a  person.  What  earthly  pleasure  can 
equal  that  of  reading  a  good  book?  O,  dearest 
tomes  !  Princely  and  august  folio  !  Sublime 
quarto !  Elegant  octavo  !  Charming  duodecimo ! 
Most  ardently  do  I  admire  your  beauties.  To  ob- 
tain ye,  and  to  call  ye  mine,  I  would  work  day 
and  night ;  and  to  possess  ye  I  would  forbid  my- 
self all  sensual  joys!" 

At  this  time,  when  Kitto  was  in  his  twentieth 
year,  Mr.  Groves  had  been  contemplating  devoting 
himself  to  the  missionary  work,  and  to  this  end 
had  been  preparing  in  Trinity  College,  Dublin.  It 
.  was  proposed  to  Kitto  that  he  should  practise  as  a 
dentist,  either  in  Plymouth  or  in  London ;  but  Mr. 
Groves,  learning  that  the  printing-offices  at  several 
of  the  missionary  stations  were  in  need  of  willing 
workmen,  and  knowing  Kitto's  spirit  and  admira- 
tion for  missionary  labor,  proposed  that  he  should 
go  out  to  one  of  the  stations  as  a  prmter.     He  ac- 


JOHN   KITTO.  199 

cepted  the  proposal  at  once,  as  the  most  congenial 
and  desirable  work.  He  was  accepted  by  the 
London  Board,  Mr.  Groves  offering  liberally  to 
pay  toward  his  board  $250  per  annum,  for  two 
years.  In  the  July  of  1825  he  was  consigned  to 
the  care  of  Mr.  Watts,  at  the  Missionary  College 
at  Islington,  to  learn  the  art  of  printing.  When 
in  the  office  he  soon  learned  to  set  the  types  of  the 
Greek  Testament,  and  Persic,  on  Henry  Martyn's 
translation.  One  of  the  delights  which  he  found 
in  London  was  an  indulgence  in  his  early  propen- 
sity of  visiting  and  reading  at  the  bookstalls.  His 
industry  was  not  relaxed  with  his  comparatively 
easy  circumstances.  "I  cannot,"  he  wrote,  "accuse 
myself  of  having  wasted  or  misemployed  a  mo- 
ment of  my  time  since  I  left  the  workhouse."  He 
was  so  methodical  in  the  distribution  of  his  time, 
as  carefully  to  apportion  a  task  to  every  part  of  the 
day,  only  allowing  himself  six  hours  for  sleep; 
and  considered  that  rather  more  than  he  could  af- 
ford. After  spending  considerable  time  in  prepa- 
ration, he  finally  went  out  to  Malta  in  1827,  to 
enter  upon  the  duties  of  the  printing  ofiice,  which 
was  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Jowett  and  Mr. 
Schliewz,  and  was  employed  in  printing  tracts  in 
Greek,  Arabic,  Maltese,  and  ItaUan.  He  entered 
upon  the  work  with  ardor — devoting  all  his  spare 
time  to  the  study  of  Asiatic  characters. 

After  a  period,  owing  to  the  disposition,  "  which 
would  not  be  controlled,"  to  learn,  the  Missionary 
Committee  thought  his  studies  interfered  with  the 


200  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

discharge  of  his  duties  in  the  printing-office ;  this 
occasioned  a  breach,  which  gradually  widened 
until  he  resolved  to  return  to  England.  The  Com- 
mittee evidently  did  not  understand,  and  certainly 
did  not  sympathise  with  Kitto  in  his  desires  and 
aspirations.  They  required  a  mere  printer;  Kitto 
was  more — he  could  originate  thoughts  worthy  of 
being  printed. 

On  his  return  to  London  he  resolved  various 
plans  to  enable  him  to  gain  a  livelihood,  one  of 
which  was  his  original  one :  to  open  a  stationer's 
shop  in  the  neighborhood  of  Plymouth.  But  this 
project  came  to  nothing.  In  the  meantime  his 
funds  were  exhausted,  and  he  was  once  more  re- 
duced to  the  dregs  of  poverty.  Fortunately,  at 
this  time  a  situation  was  offered  him  by  a  gentle- 
man, John  Synge,  Esq.,  of  Glanmoor  Castle, 
County  Wicklow,  who  was  printing,  at  his  own 
private  press,  "  some  little  works  in  Hebrew  and 
Greek."  He  was  to  have  entered  upon  the  duties 
of  the  printing-office  on  the  1st  of  June;  but  be- 
fore that  time  his  old  friend  Mr.  Groves  had  made 
him  a  second  offer  to  accompany  him  to  the  East, 
which  he  at  once  accepted.  This  was  literally  re- 
alizing his  early  dream.  He  went  out  as  the  tutor 
to  the  two  little  boys  of  Mr.  Groves.  His  instruc- 
tions to  the  children  embraced  Hebrew,  scripture, 
theology,  history,  geography,  writing,  arithmetic, 
and  English  composition. 

On  the  12th  of  June,  1829,  the  party  sailed  for 
St.  Petersburg.     During  his  stay  in  Russia,  Kitto 


JOHN   KIITO.  201 

did  not  form  a  very  high  opinion  of  its  inhabit- 
ants. After  staying  at  St.  Petersburg,  Mr.  Groves 
went  to  Moscow,  which  city  much  pleased  Kitto. 
The  next  place  visited  was  Astrachan — distant 
about  a  thousand  miles.  They  then  traversed  the 
entire  country,  meeting  with  many  adventures  on 
the  way,  until  they  arrived  at  Araxes,  the  river 
dividing  Russia  from  Persia.  On  this  journey 
Kitto  was  thrown  from  his  horse,  but,  having 
adopted  the  turban  the  day  previous,  its  thick 
folds  no  doubt  saved  his  life.  The  party  entered 
Bagdad  on  the  6th  of  December,  1829,  six  months 
after -leaving  Gravesend.  While  in  Bagdad,  the 
plague  entered  the  city.  As  many  as  one  thousand 
and  fifteen  hundred  deaths  occurred  in  one  day. 
In  two  months,  fifty  thousand  were  supposed  to 
have  fallen  victims  to  it.  Mrs.  Groves  was  seized 
on  the  Vth  of  May,  and  died  on  the  14th,  after  a 
week's  suffering.  Mr.  Groves  was  also  threatened, 
but  providentially  escaped.  This  danger  was  not 
over  before  they  were  exposed  to  another.  On 
the  27th  of  April,  owing  to  the  river  overflowing 
its  banks,  seven  thousand  houses  were  thrown 
down,  and  fifteen  thousand  people  lost  their  lives ! 
The  city  seemed  doomed.  But  this  was  not  all. 
The  horrors  of  a  siege  followed  the  death-dealing 
plague  and  flood.  The  Arab  Pashas  of  Mosul  and 
Aleppo,  so  soon  as  the  waters  had  subsided,  ad- 
vanced against  the  stricken  city.  The  siege  was 
carried  on  for  several  months,  during  which  time 
the  inhabitants  were  subjected  to  all  the  heart- 


202  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

rending  scenes  engendered  by  fiendish  war — • 
rapine  and  famine  not  being  the  least.  Kitto  was 
confined  in  the  house  for  five  months,  during  the 
horrors  of  death,  sword,  and  pestilence.  After 
collecting  all  the  information  possible  upon  the 
habits  and  customs  of  the  East,  to  illustrate  the 
Bible  narratives,  he  returned  to  England,  in  com- 
pany with  a  Mr.  Newman,  in  the  September  of 
1832;  they  arrived  at  their  destination  in  June, 
1833 — Kitto  having  acquired  considerable  informa- 
tion on  the  journey. 

After  settling  down  once  more,  Kitto  was  in- 
troduced to  Mr.  Charles  Knight,  who  employed 
him  as  a  regular  contributor  to  the  "  Penny  Maga- 
zine"— one  of  the  popular  serials,  read,  it  was  sup- 
posed, by  more  than  a  million  of  people,  besides 
being  re-printed  in  America,  and  translated  into 
French,  German,  and  Dutch.  Mr.  Knight  also 
employed  Kitto  to  take  charge  of  the  "Penny 
CycloptBdia."  This  necessitated  his  spending 
seven  hours  daily  in  Ludgate  street.  Mr.  Knight 
also  projected  the  "  Pictorial  Bible,"  being  fully 
assured  that  Kitto  could  supply  the  notes  and  il- 
lustrative matter.  This  work  was  commenced  in 
1835,  and  completed  in  May,  1838.  During  its 
progress,  Kitto  received  $1200  a  year,  and  an  ad- 
ditional sum  at  its  completion.  The  next  work 
upon  which  he  was  employed  was  the  "  Pictorial 
History  of  Palestine  and  the  Holy  Land,  including 
a  complete  History  of  the  Jews."  The  next  work 
commenced  was  the  "  Christian  Traveler,"  a  peri- 


JOHK  Kirro.  203 

odical  publication.  Only  three  parts  were  publish- 
ed, owing  to  Mr.  Knight's  business  becoming 
embarrassed. 

Kitto  was  then  engaged  by  the  Messrs.  Black, 
of  Edinburgh,  to  write  a  "  History  of  Palestine, 
from  the  Patriarchal  Age  to  the  Present  Time ;" 
and  he  also  wrote  "Thoughts  among  Flowers," 
for  the  Religious  Tract  Society.  Between  1841 
and  1843,  he  prepared  the  letter-press  of  the 
"Gallery  of  Scripture  Engravings;  and  in  1845, 
"The  Pictorial  Sunday  Book,"  with  1300  engrav- 
ings, and  an  appendix  on  the  Geography  of  the 
Holy  Land  I  On  the  title-page  of  his  next  work 
— "The  Biblical  Cyclopaedia" — Kitto's  name  ap- 
pears as  John  Kitto,  D.  D.,  F.  S.  A. 

The  pauper  surely  never  dreamed  of  such  a 
height !  He  received  the  diploma  of  Doctor  of 
Divinity  from  the  University  of  Giessen ;  and  in 
1845,  he  became  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  of 
An.tiquaries.  From  this  period  his  industry  was 
incessant — working  almost  constantly  from  four  in 
the  morning  until  nine  in  the  evening,  producing 
in  succession  a  series  of  standard  works  which 
Avill  ever  remain  to  attest  his  labor  and  research. 
In  the  December  of  1850,  Lord  John  Russell  wrote 
him:  "The  Queen  has  directed  that  a  grant  of 
£100  ($500)  a  year  should  be  made  to  you  from 
her  Majesty's  Civil  List,  on  account  of  your  useful 
and  meritorious  literary  works." 

This  well-earned  bounty  he  did  not  enjoy  very 
long,  his  intense  exertion  bringing  on  a  serious 


204:  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

illness,  which,  despite  the  best  attention,  remission 
of  his  labors,  and  the  pleasure  of  a  journey  into 
Germany  for  the  restoration  of  his  health,  ter- 
minated in  his  death,  in  the  November  of  1854. 
He  was  interred  in  the  cemetery  of  Cannstatt,  in 
Germany,  followed  to  his  resting-place  by  a  large 
concourse  of  the  residents.  Thus  terminates  the 
life  of  this  pauper  boy !  more  glorious  in  the  re- 
sults of  his  life  than  if  he  had  been  born  to  the 
heritage  of  a  noble  name  and  an  ample  estate.  His 
works  would  have  done  him  infinite  honor  had  he 
had  the  advantages  of  the  most  liberal  education, 
the  companionship  and  encouragement  of  the 
learned  ;  but  how  much  more  do  they  redound  to 
his  honor  when  his  infirmity  and  all  the  disadvan- 
tages of  his  early  position  are  considered !  What 
boy,  or  what  man,  reading  the  life  and  trials,  and 
ultimate  triumphs  of  the  workhouse  boy,  will  not 
be  nerved  with  earnest  resolve  and  fixed  resolu- 
tion to  imitate  him  in  his  eagerness  in  the  pursuit 
of  knowledge,  and  to  leave  the  world  somewhat 
better  for  having  lived  in  it. 


HUMPHREY  DAVY. 

It  is  delightful  to  see  many  reasons  for  believ- 
ing that  science,  technically  so  called,  is  becoming 
more  and  more  interesting  to  the  general  public. 
At  one  time,  the  genius  for  discovery  was  a  peril- 
ous gift;  and  those  who  possessed  it  were  looked 
upon  with  an  evil  eye,  as  persons  in  the  service  of 
witchcraft  and  necromancy.  A  life  passed  in 
gazing  on  the  stars  and  among  the  mysteries  of 
numbers  and  diagrams,  or  one  spent  in  the  labora- 
tory, was  too  removed  from  the  ways  of  common 
life  to  seem  to  have  any  lawful  object  in  view,  or 
to  possess  adequate  attractions  for  men,  unless  in 
the  awful  compensations  of  communion  with  the 
low^er  world.  Although  the  long  period  of  con- 
flict between  the  rights  of  mind,  and  the  despotism 
of  superstition,  ceased  many  centuries  ago  to  be 
universal,  there  still  remained  those  hindrances  to 
a  popular  science,  which  arise  out  of  the  essential 
nature  of  discovery  in  unfamiliar  studies,  except 
when  these  are  removed  by  the  method  of  expo- 
sition which  was  destined  to  be  the  birth  of  a  later 
epoch.  A  change,  however,  has  taken  place,  and 
the  numerous  lectures  upon  every  valuable  branch 
of  science,  now  being   everywhere   delivered   to 


206  FAAIOUS    BOYS. 

crowded  audiences,  cannot  fail  to  reverse  tlie 
past,  and  make  the  names  of  our  scientific  bene- 
factors as  much  household  words,  as  formerly  they 
were  proscribed,  or  were  heard  only  within  the 
cu'cle  of  professional  life. 

On  many  accounts  Sir  Humphrey  Davy  deserves 
an  afiectionate  popularity.  Beside  the  claims  of 
transcendent  scientific  genius,  applied  very  labori- 
ously, and  even  at  the  hazard  of  his  life,  to  the 
successful  interpretation  of  nature,  this  eminent 
chemist  was  among  the  first  to  throw  the  graces 
of  oratory  over  the  details  of  science,  and  thereby 
to  accelerate  the  knowledge  of  it  among  multi- 
tudes who  might  otherwise  have  turned  away  with 
aversion  from  the  subject.  The  influence  of  his 
example  upon  subsequent  expounders  it  is  difficult 
adequately  to  estimate.  He  himself  gave  vogue 
to  his  favorite  pursuits,  and  must  have  indirectly 
disposed  the  general  mind  to  desiderate  acquaint- 
ance with  the  results  of  inquiries  in  other  depart- 
ments of  science.  The  famous  safety-lamp,  also,  is 
due  to  the  benevolent  interest  which  this  remark- 
able man  took  in  the  security  and  happiness  of  his 
fellow-men ;  and  it  is  worthy  of  special  notice  that 
he  expressed  more  pleasure  in  having  been  the 
means  of  providing  this  instrument  of  safety  to 
miners,  passing  so  much  of  life  in  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  than  in  any  other  thing  he  ever  did.  A 
keen  controversy  has  arisen  as  to  whether  the 
"Davy  Lamp,"  or  the  "  Geordy  Safety  Lamp," 
invented  by  ]Vir.  George  Stephenson,  were  entitled 


HUMPHEEY    DAVY.  20T 

to  priority.  As  in  the  case  of  many  other  great 
inventions,  it  is  not  unlikely  that,  unknown  to  each 
other,  both  were  working  out  theii-  ideas  about 
the  same  time. 

Davy  was  born  IVth  December,  1778,  at  Pen- 
zance, a  small  town  in  Cornwall,  well  known  to 
youthful  fancies,  through  our  story  books,  as  the 
region  of  giants.  The  circumstances  of  his  parents 
were,  on  the  whole,  as  propitious  as  probably  they 
could  have  been  for  the  development  of  a  mind 
Hke  his.  The  elder  Davy  was  a  wood-carver  by 
profession ;  but  he  appears  to  have  had  small  oc- 
casion to  exercise  his  craft,  as  he  did  Uttle  business 
in  Penzance,  and  farmed  the  copyhold  of  Varfell, 
situated  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  town.  The 
mother  of  Humphrey  would  seem  to  have  been  a 
woman  of  sweet  and  gentle  dispositions,  with  a 
turn  for  contemplative  thought  of  more  rare  oc- 
currence. The  father  died  while  young  Davy  was 
only  sixteen ;  but  the  mother,  left  with  a  family 
of  five  children,  of  whom  our  subject  was  the  first- 
born, survived  to  see  her  son  crowned  with  the  « 
profusion  of  honors  which  his  genius  won  during 
the  course  of  his  splendid  life  of  enterprise  and 
discovery.  Happily  the  county  in  which  Penzance 
is  placed  is  one  of  great  beauty ;  and  the  incipient 
philosopher,  teeming  with  thoughts  of  glory,  found 
in  external  nature,  the  elements  of  a  fine  sugges- 
tion, and  the  nurse  of  high  purposes  destined  to  be 
prosperously  realised.  Of  a  temperament  far  from 
favorable  to  plodding,  Humphrey  passed  his  child- 


SOS  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

hood  in  the  usual  manner  of  boys — ^learning,  in- 
deed, his  letters  with  quickness,  but  busying  him- 
self much  more  with  history  and  books  of  travel 
than  with  those  tasks  supposed  to  be  more  profit- 
able, but  found  also  more  uncongenial  to  youth. 
From  his  earliest  life  he  displayed  the  ardor  of  his 
character,  being  foremost  in  every  exploit  in  which 
skill  and  adventure  had  a  place.  It  so  happened, 
that  he  lived  more  with  one  Tonkin,  a  surgeon- 
apothecary  of  the  district,  and  a  fist  friend  of  the 
family,  than  he  did  with  his  parents ;  the  conse- 
quence of  which  being  that  he  was  left  very  much 
to  follow  the  direction  of  his  own  tastes.  To  one 
whose  genius  was  so  kindly  and  promising  as 
young  Davy's,  no  harm  could  result  from  this  span 
of  hberty.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  probable  that  a 
forced  education,  while  it  would  not  have  availed 
to  repress  the  strong  tendencies  of  his  mind  toward 
original  discovery,  might  yet  have  restrained  them 
to  his  future  and  permanent  detriment.  At  the 
age  of  fourteen  he  was  put  to  Cardew's  school  at 
Truro,  where  he  remained  a  year.  Afterward, 
till  he  was  seventeen,  he  was  suffered  to  go  at 
large,  during  which  period  of  vacation  he  seems  to 
have  been  more  disposed  to  out-door  sports,  such 
as  fowling  and  fishing,  than  to  any  exercise  directly 
related  to  his  subsequent  employments.  At  seven- 
teen, however,  he  was  apprenticed  to  a  medical 
practitioner  of  the  name  of  Boolasse ;  and  with 
this  event  commences  the  real  interest  of  the 
young  chemist's  life. 


nUMPIIEEY   DAYY.  209 

Of  no  circumscribed  faculties,  poorly  pinned 
down  to  one  solitary  kind  of  labor,  Davy,  at  this 
time,  began  to  exhibit  a  certain  universality  of 
power ;  directing  his  attention  to  religion,  meta- 
physics, political  science,  climate,  as  well  as  to  all 
subjects  of  an  emotional  character.  As  the  fruit 
of  this  noble  freedom,  working  through  a  genial 
nature,  the  young  philosopher  now  gave  scope  to 
his  buoyant  spirit  in  written  effusions  on  every 
topic  of  general  interest.  Variously  occupied  as 
he  then  was,  and  with  his  affections  divided  be- 
tween the  competing  claims  of  manifold  diverging 
pursuits,  Davy  was  receiving  an  ample  culture  of 
his  nature  ;  and  by  the  generahty  of  his  activity, 
opening  on  the  most  different  phases  of  life,  he  ac- 
quired healthful  conditions  for  the  direction  of 
his  energies  to  one  absorbing  object,  so  soon  as 
the  course  of  his  history  evolved  the  passion  which 
should  take  the  mastery  of  all  the  forces  he  hap- 
pened to  possess.  But  he  seems  to  have  been 
conscious  that  little  definite  result  could  be  ex- 
pected from  study  spread  over  so  wide  a  field,  and 
that  his  efforts  up  to  that  time,  however  valuable 
as  preliminary  to  something  less  desultory,  would 
need  concentration,  if  those  visions  of  fame  which 
hovered  before  his  youthful  mind  were  in  any 
likelihood  to  be  realized.  Before  referring  to  the 
next  event  of  Davy's  life  in  proof  of  this  remark, 
we  copy  a  reflection  of  his  own  on  the  general 
subject,  which  will  not  only  confirm  this  impres- 
sion, but  may  serve  as  a  favorable  specimen  of 
14 


210":  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

the  philosopher's  thought  and  style.  "  In  minds 
of  great  power,"  Davy  says,  "  there  is  usually  a 
disposition  to  variety  of  pursuits,  and  they  often 
attempt  all  branches  of  letters  and  science,  and 
even  the  imitative  arts  ;  but  if  they  become  truly 
eminent,  it  is  by  devotion  to  one  object  at  a  time, 
or  at  most  two  objects.  This  sort  of  general 
power  is,  like  a  profusion  of  blossoms  on  a  fruit- 
tree,  a  symptom  of  health  and  strength ;  but  if  all 
are  suffered  to  become  fruit,  all  are  feeble  and 
bad ;  if  the  greater  portion  is  destroyed  by  acci- 
dent or  art,  the  remainder,  being  properly  nour- 
ished, become  healthy,  large,  and  good."  No 
doubt,  we  think,  need  exist  respecting  the  general 
truth  here  announced,  or  that  it  is  expressed  grace- 
fully and  beautifully.  Devotion  to  one  object,  of 
course,  does  not  imply  indifference  to  every  other, 
or  even  to  any  other,  if  it  fell  within  the  range  of 
a  hberal  accomplishment.  The  truth  is,  however, 
that  there  are  fewer  who  err  on  the  side  of  too 
great  comprehensiveness  of  pursuit  than  of  too  con- 
fined exertion.  Most  men  are  contented  with 
learning  well  one  thing,  and  yield  a  mere  neutral 
acquiesence  in  the  validity  of  occupations  differing 
from  their  own.  Whensoever  devotion  to  a  pur- 
suit leads  a  man  to  neglect  any  knowledge  or 
ability  within  the  reach  of  his  acquisition,  the  case 
is  one  not  of  a  wise  concentration,  but  of  a  foolish 
one-sidedness ;  the  individual  lacks  a  generous 
sympathy  in  all  true  and  useful  ways  of  life,  and 
defi'auds  himself  of  a  free  and  bountiful  possession 


HUMPHREY   DAVY.  211 

even  of  what  he  professes  to  know  most  entirely. 
It  is  the  "  penny  wise  and  pound  foolish"  maxim, 
illustrated  not  in  a  particular  act  of  false  economy, 
but  in  a  whole  life  of  mistake.  Still  it  is  worthy 
of  observation,  that  a  man  cannot  safely  dispense 
with  an  aim  which  may  give  unity  to  his  efforts; 
and  to  this  sound  rule  of  conduct  Davy  obviously 
alludes  in  the  passage  above  quoted. 

It  is  easy  to  perceive  that,  under  a  general  re- 
mark which  is  universally  applicable,  the  chemist 
is  describing  his  own  condition  at  this  period  of 
life.  Blossoming  in  every  faculty  of  his  variously 
gifted  nature,  he  seems  to  have  felt  that  no  great 
achievement  could  be  performed  unless  he  with- 
drew force  expended  in  many  directions  hitherto, 
and  thenceforward  employed  it  in  the  develop- 
ment of  one  grand  form  of  inventive  thought. 
Wise  was  his  feeling  ;  and  a  resolution,  probably  the 
effect  of  instinct,  to  study  chemistry,  led  the  way  to 
those  discoveries  which  afterward  gave  him  a  world- 
wide reputation.  Having  obtained  some  acquaint- 
ance with  geometry  and  other  branches  of  mathe- 
matics, he  began,  about  the  age  of  nineteen,  the 
study  of  his  life,  chemistry.  Acquiring  in  a  trice 
the  few  facts  then  known  on  the  subject,  and 
chiefly  the  elements  of  Lavoisier,  he  experimented 
with  such  rude  means  as  he  had  within  his  reach, 
and  speculated  on  the  nature  of  light  and  heat, 
till,  rejecting  the  French  theory,  he  threw  out  a 
hypothesis  of  his  own,  attempting  to  certify  it  by 
what  ways  he  could. 


212  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

At  this  time,  fortunately  for  Davy,  the  Pneu- 
matic Institution  of  Bristol,  by  the  efforts  of  Dr. 
Beddoes,  once  an  Oxford  professor  of  chemistry, 
was  established.  Its  benevolent  object  was  the 
investigation  of  the  properties  of  the  atmospheric 
airs,  then  recently  discovered,  in  their  relation  to 
animal  life,  and  the  application  of  the  results  to  the 
promotion  of  health.  Davy  was  known  to  Beddoes 
by  correspondence,  and  was  offered  the  situation 
of  directory  of  the  laboratory.  A  situation  in 
every  way  so  tempting  was  not  to  be  refused. 
Accordingly  the  young  chemist  soon  transferred 
himself  from  his  native  solitudes  to  the  town  of 
Bristol,  where  he  was  destined  to  meet  with  every 
kindness,  and  to  enjoy  the  society  of  Southey, 
Coleridge,  and  Gregory  Watt,  as  well  as  many 
others,  who  received  him  at  once  on  terms  of 
equality.  Here,  for  two  years,  he  prosecuted  his 
researches  with  the  greatest  ardor.  Some  of  his 
opinions  on  heat  and  light,  although  propounded 
with  warmth  of  conviction,  he  afterward  retracted, 
exhibiting  in  all  he  did  the  noble  qualities  of  a 
genuine  disciple  of  truth.  His  attempts,  how- 
ever, while  resident  in  Bristol,  were  not  all  equally 
unproductive.  In  the  summer  of  1800  the  results 
of  these  were  published  in  his  first  important  work, 
entitled  "  Researches,  Chemical  and  Philosophical, 
chiefly  concerning  Nitrous  Oxide  and  its  Respira- 
tion." The  subject,  we  may  say,  of  these  inquiries, 
when  translated  into  popular  language,  is  the  fi- 
mous  laughing-gas.     It  may  not  be  uninteresting 


IIUMPimEY    DAVY.  213 

to  our  readers  to  know,  that  among  the  first  of 
those  who  submitted  themselves  to  the  influence 
of  this  singuhxr  gas,  as  verified  and  prepared  by 
Davy,  were  Southey  and  Coleridge. 

But  his  labors  and  residence  in  Bristol  were  only 
his  first  step  in  the  ladder  of  ascent.  Every  thing 
hitherto  had  concurred  to  prosper  his  efforts ;  and 
the  wide  range  of  these  was  now  about  to  become 
conspicuously  helpful  toward  the  fulfillment  of  his 
life.  The  hour  was  arrived  when  Davy  was  to  fill 
the  eye  of  the  London  aristocracy,  not  by  meretri- 
cious arts,  but  by  the  union  of  brilliant  scientific 
discovery,  and  a  method  of  exposition  then  unri- 
valed in  the  history  of  chemistry.  At  the  recom- 
mendation of  the  late  Professor  Hope,  of  Edin- 
burgh, he  was  invited  by  Count  Rumford  to  occu- 
py the  place  of  assistant  lecturer  on  chemistry, 
and  director  of  the  laboratory  in  connection  with 
the  Royal  Institution  of  Great  Britain.  No  man 
was  better  fitted  for  the  oflice  than  Humphrey 
Davy.  Daring  in  his  investigations,  and  at  this 
time  on  the  eve  of  signalising  himself  as  the  great- 
est living  chemist,  he  brought  unbounded  enthu- 
siasm to  his  duties,  and  a  thirst  for  fame,  which 
was  excusable  in  its  degree,  only  because  it  arose 
spontaneously  in  a  nature  confident  in  its  resources, 
and  announcing  beforehand  in  its  aspirations  what 
it  should  yet  succeed  in  accomplishing.  A  gay 
and  fair  audience  was  ready  to  welcome  his  expo- 
sitions. On  such  a  spirit  as  Davy's,  these  circum- 
stances, however  intrinsically  they  may  be  esti- 


214  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

mated,  had  a  great  effect ;  they  were,  indeed,  the 
necessary  conditions  for  his  prosperous  advance- 
ment. The  event  justified  the  preparation.  The 
fashion  of  the  metropolis  poured  into  his  lecture- 
room  ;  and  so  did  Cavendish  and  Banks,  Coleridge, 
and  Southey.  Invitations  accompanied  the  com- 
pliments which  were  showered  on  him.  Davy 
now  found  himself  in  a  world  of  discovery,  where 
caution  rather  than  courage  was  necessary,  where 
success  was  dangerous — and  a  timely  retreat  from 
its  fascinations  the  only  method  of  coming  off  with 
g-ory. 

The  present  is  a  good  opportunity  for  remarking 
how  impolitic  is  that  species  of  education  which  is 
directed  in  preparation  only  for  the  strict  and  di- 
rect duties  of  a  profession,  instead  of  looking  gen- 
erously on  all  sciences  and  employments,  and 
gathering  elements  of  strength  and  general  culture 
from  every  source  which  lies  within  the  reach  of 
human  industry  to  avail  itself  of.  The  truth  is, 
that  no  man  is  adequately  educated  who  can  not 
translate  the  results  of  his  knowledge  into  the  lan- 
guage of  the  community,  or  who  is  so  exclusively 
informed  in  the  matters  of  his  own  special  depart- 
ment as  to  feel  little  interest  in  common  affairs, 
and  no  desire  to  mix  the  facts  of  his  science  with 
the  great  stock  that  is  the  property  of  all.  A  man 
should  do  one  thing  well,  and  every  thing  in  its 
proportion.  Davy,  on  this  occasion,  called  into 
exercise  the  multifarious  knowledge  which  he  had 
been  accumulating ;  he  was  not  a  chemist  merely, 


HUMPUllEY   DAVY.  215 

but  a  man  presenting  the  rich  and  splendid  fruits 
of  his  professional  labor,  in  a  form  which  could 
fill  the  hearts  even  of  poets  with  delight,  and  ren- 
der the  lecture-room  almost  as  attractive  to  rank 
and  luxury  as  the  ball-room  or  the  theatre. 

In  the  busy  and  triumphant  labor  of  the  Royal 
Institution,  Davy  continued  for  twelve  years. 
During  that  time,  and  afterward,  honors  of  every 
kind,  and  from  all  quarters,  testified  equally  the 
variety  of  his  achievements,  and  the  wide-spread 
interest  which  they  had  succeeded  in  awakening. 
He  became  at  successive  periods  a  fellow  of  the 
Royal  Society,  a  secretary  to  it,  and  in  1820,  its 
president.  For  his  researches  in  galvanism,  as  de- 
tailed in  the  course  of  his  lectures,  he  received 
Napoleon's  prize  from  the  French  Institute ;  Trin- 
ity College,  Dublin,  created  him  doctor  of  laws ; 
George  IV.,  as  regent,  bestowed  upon  him  the 
honor  of  knighthood ;  and  other  marks  of  distinc- 
tion, of  all  descriptions,  were  received  by  him  from 
sources  of  honor,  aUke  at  home  and  abroad.  His 
private  opinion  of  these  things  is  characteristically 
indicated  in  the  following  words  of  his  own.  "  It 
is  not  that  honors,"  he  says,  "are  worth  having, 
but  it  is  painful  not  to  have  them.  A  star  gives 
consequence  in  the  eye  of  the  common  world,  and 
even  those  people  who  most  affect  to  despise  such 
external  signs  of  court  favor,  are  often  influenced 
by  them.  Honors  are  to  true  glory  what  artificial 
lights  are  to  sunshine :  they  attract  those  eyes  that 
are  not  fitted  for  sunshine.     The  bat  and  the  moth 


216  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

fly  toward  the  torch,  and  the  eagle  soars  toward 
the  heavens.  But  it  may  be  said  that  artificial 
lights  are  useful  to  all  eyes,  and  when  they  are  in- 
tended to  illuminate,  and  not  to  dazzle,  their  effect 
is  excellent."  So  thought  and  felt  Davy.  No 
doubt,  he  wrote  from  his  experience  of  pleasure  in 
the  possession  of  honors ;  and  although  in  his  own 
case  their  "  effect"  was  "  excellent"  we  may  ven- 
ture, perhaps,  to  express  our  belief  that  no  really 
great  man  will  very  much  concern  himself  about 
these  matters.  When  they  come,  he  will  submit 
to  them  with  pleasure  ;  but  should  they  eschew  his 
neighborhood,  it  will  not  be  because  his  court  to 
them  has  been  obsequious. 

A  life  so  happy  and  prosperous  as  Davy's  was, 
however,  fated  to  be  overcast.  On  St.  Andrew's 
day,  in  1826,  he  delivered  his  last  oration  before 
the  Royal  Society,  with  a  feeling  of  pain,  as  if 
prognosticating  apoplexy.  Accepting  the  hint 
given  him  by  exhausted  nature,  he  passed  over  to 
the  Continent  early  in  1827,  and  reached  Ravenna 
on  the  20th  of  February.  In  this  region  he  sought 
health  in  sports  and  cheerfnl  mental  exercise. 
October  found  him  returned  to  London,  neither 
better  nor  worse  than  when  he  had  left.  Another 
summer  he  passed  as  he  had  done  the  preceding 
one,  and  then  went  to  reside  in  Rome.  Here,  on 
the  20th  February,  1829,  while  engaged  in  finish- 
ing the  "  Last  Days  of  a  Philosopher,"  he  was 
prostrated  by  palsy,  his  mind  only  being  untouched. 
Davy  expected  to  be  forthwith  carried  off,  and  to 


nUMPHEEY   DAVY.  217 

leave  his  bones  behind  him  in  Rome.  The  thread 
of  life,  however,  was  yet  a  little  longer  to  hang  un- 
broken. Lady  Davy  soon  arrived  from  England, 
with  whom  Sir  Humphrey  left  for  Geneva,  going 
by  way  of  Florence,  Genoa,  and  Turin.  At  Ge- 
neva, on  the  29th  of  May,  he  suddenly  expired. 
Thus  lived  and  died  this  great  man,  whose  won- 
derful talents  as  a  discoverer  were  only  equalled 
by  his  industry.  Time  cannot  obliterate  the  trutlis 
he  revealed,  nor  will  the  course  of  events  long  be 
able  to  lose  them.  Penzance,  his  native  spot,  and 
Westminster  Abbey,  hold  testimonies  to  his  suc- 
cessful genius.  May  our  readers  place  his  name 
in  their  affectionate  memories ;  for,  in  doing  so, 
they  will  best  realise  the  aspirations  of  Davy  him- 
self, and  people  their  own  thoughts  with  a  name 
worthy  of  remembrance. 


AMOS   LAWEE^^CE. 

Amos  Lawrence,  whose  great  success  in  life 
may  be  attributed  to  his  unceasing  industry  and 
perseverance,  was  born  in  Groton,  Massachusetts, 
in  1786,  in  which  place  his  family  had  resided  for 
more  than  a  hundred  years.  Their  names  among 
those  of  the  early  settlers  have  been  found  record- 
ed as  far  back  as  1663. 

Samuel  Lawrence,  the  father  of  Amos,  was  an 
officer  in  the  Continental  army  of  the  Revolution- 
ary war.  When  peace  was  declared,  he  settled 
quietly  on  his  farm  at  Groton,  to  enjoy  the 
pleasures  of  domestic  life.  His  attention  having 
been  drawn  to  the  great  need  of  educational 
ftvcilities,  he  established  and  supported  a  Seminary, 
which  still  bears  his  name. 

While  yet  very  young,  Amos  Lawrence  was  sent 
to  the  District  School,  and  thence  to  the  Groton 
Academy.  His  health,  always  deUcate,  prevented 
his  regular  attendance  at  school,  and  he  would 
often  have  been  the  loser  thereby,  if  he  had  not 
always  striven  to  regain  the  time  thus  lost  by  in- 
creased diligence  in  study.  He  remained  at  the 
Academy,  making  good  progress  in  all  the  Enghsh 


AMOS   LAWKENCE.  219 

brandies,  until  his  fourteenth  year ;  at  that  early- 
age  he  was  placed  in  a  small  country  store,  as  his 
strength  was  not  thought  suflficient  for  the  more 
laborious  duties  on  the  farm.  A  few  months  after 
he  was  apprenticed  to  James  Brazer,  Esq.,  with 
whom  he  continued  until  of  age.  He  resided  in 
the  family  of  his  employer,  and  although  the  store 
was  situated  but  about  a  mile  from  his  father's 
residence,  yet  even  at  that  short  distance,  Amos 
seldom  had  leisure  more  than  once  a  week  to  visit 
his  family.  He  was  actively  employed  from  morn- 
ing till  night,  and  after  a  couple  of  years  the  whole 
management  and  responsibility  of  the  business 
devolved  upon  him.  The  store  was  well  supplied 
with  all  the  various  articles  belonging  to  a  country 
store,  and,  being  well  situated  on  the  high-road 
from  Boston  to  New  Hampshire  and  Canada,  was 
the  resort  of  many  travelers  going  to  and  fro. 
Soon  after  he  entered  his  apprenticeship  he  re- 
solved upon  total  abstinence.  At  that  time  tem- 
perance societies  were  unknown,  and  almost  every 
person  was  addicted  to  the  use  of  intoxicating 
drinks.  His  employer  and  the  clerks  were  in  the 
habit  of  partaking  of  a  stimulating  drink  every 
day  about  noon.  At  first  Amos  Lawrence  joined 
them,  but  soon  fearing  that  his  appetite  would 
increase  if  he  indulged  it,  he  resolutely  deter- 
mined to  discontinue  the  habit  altogether.  This 
resolve  was  the  more  remarkable  from  being  made 
unaided  and  unadvised.  In  face  of  the  ridicule  it 
would  excite  in  his  companions,  we  must  applaud 


il2J  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

this  act  as  evincing  great  strength  of  mind  and 
decision  of  character.  In  writing  of  this  resolu- 
tion to  a  young  friend,  several  years  afterward,  he 
says  :— 

"  In  the  first  place,  take  this  for  your  motto  at 
the  commencement  of  your  journey,  that  the  dif- 
ference of  going  just  rights  or  a  little  wrong^  will 
be  the  difference  of  finding  yourself  in  good 
quarters,  or  in  a  miserable  bog  or  slough,  at  the 
end  of  it.  Of  the  whole  number  educated  in  the 
Groton  stores  for  some  years  before  and  after  my- 
self, no  one  else,  to  my  knowledge,  escaped  the 
bog  or  slough ;  and  my  escape  I  trace  to  the 
simple  fact  of  my  having  put  a  restraint  upon  my 
appetite.  We  five  boys  were  in  the  habit,  every 
forenoon,  of  making  a  drink  compounded  of  rum, 
raisins,  sugar,  nutmeg,  etc.,  with  biscuit — all  palat- 
able to  eat  and  drink.  After  being  in  the  store 
four  weeks,  I  found  myself  admonished  by  my  ap- 
petite of  the  approach  of  the  hour  for  indulgence. 
Thinking  the  habit  might  make  trouble  if  allowed 
to  grow  stronger,  without  further  apology  to  my 
seniors,  I  declined  partaking  with  them.  My  first 
resolution  was  to  abstain  for  a  week,  and,  when 
the  week  was  out,  for  a  month,  and  then  for  a  year. 
Finally,  I  resolved  to  abstain  for  the  rest  of  my 
apprenticeship,  which  was  for  five  years  longer. 
During  that  whole  period,  I  never  drank  a  spoon- 
ful, though  I  mixed  gallons  daily  for  my  old 
master  and  his  customers.  I  decided  not  to  be  a 
slave  to  tobacco  in  any  form,  though  I  loved  the 


AMOS    LAWRENCE.  221 

odor  of  it  then,  and  even  now  have  in  my  drawer 
a  superior  Havana  cigar,  given  me,  not  long  since, 
by  a  friend,  but  only  to  smell  of.  I  have  never  in 
my  life  smoked  a  cigar ;  never  chewed  but  one 
quid,  and  that  was  before  I  was  fifteen ;  and  never 
took  an  ounce  of  snuff,  though  the  scented  rappee 
of  forty  years  ago  had  great  charms  for  me.  Now, 
I  say,  to  this  simple  fact  of  starting  just  right  am 
I  indebted,  with  God's  blessing  on  my  labors,  for 
my  present  position,  as  well  as  that  of  the  numer- 
ous connections  sprung  up  around  me." 

Amos  Lawrence,  thus  in  the  beginning  of  his 
career,  nobly  withstood  the  temptations  surround- 
ing him,  and  even  at  this  early  age  obtained  a 
reputation  for  probity  and  fairness  which  he  main- 
tained through  life. 

In  the  same  month  which  terminated  his  ap- 
prenticeship he  started  for  Boston,  in  hopes  to 
establish  a  credit  whereby  he  could  commence 
business  for  himself  He  took  his  father's  horse 
and  chaise,  and,  engaging  a  neighbor  to  drive  to 
Boston,  he  started  with  but  twenty  dollars.  To 
use  his  own  words : 

"Twenty  dollars  in  my  pocket,  but  feeling 
richer  than  I  had  ever  felt  before,  or  have  felt 
since ;  so  rich  that  I  gave  the  man  who  came  with 
me,  two  dollars  to  save  him  from  any  expence, 
and  insure  him  against  loss  by  his  spending  two 
days  on  the  journey  here  and  back  (for  which  he 
was  glad  of  an  excuse.") 

Soon  after  his  arrival,  he  had  an  opportunity  of 


222  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

entering  a  large  mercantile  house,  which  he  em- 
braced, as  it  afforded  the  means  of  better  under- 
standing trade  and  finance,  as  they  are  conducted 
in  a  metropolis,  and  also  would  give  him  the  ad- 
vantage of  business  acquaintances.  He  had  been 
a  clerk  but  a  few  months  when  his  employers,  be- 
ing much  pleased  with  him,  offered  to  take  him  in 
as  partner;  but  this  young  Lawrence  declined, 
much  to  their  astonishment.  He  did  not  think  the 
business  in  a  safe  position ;  which  supposition 
proved  to  be  true,  for  soon  after  the  firm  became 
insolvent.  Mr.  Lawrence,  in  the  winter  of  the 
same  year,  commenced  business  for  himself,  by 
means  of  a  credit  which  he  readily  obtained.  His 
honesty,  application,  and  manner,  inspired  confi- 
dence in  all  with  whom  he  came  in  contact. 

Now  fairly  embarked,  he  advanced  on  the  road 
to  fortune  steadily;  exhibiting  great  exactness, 
fairness,  and  energy,  in  all  that  appertained  to 
business.     In  writing  to  a  friend,  he  says : 

"  I  adopted  the  plan  of  keeping  an  accurate  ac- 
count of  merchandise  bought  and  sold  each  day, 
with  the  profit,  as  far  as  practicable.  I  was  thus 
enabled  to  form  an  opinion  of  my  actual  state  as  a 
business  man.  I  adopted  also  the  rule  always  to 
have  property,  after  my  second  year's  business,  to 
represent  forty  per  cent.,  at  least,  more  than  I 
owed ;  that  is,  never  to  be  in  debt  more  than  two 
and  a  half  times  my  capital.  This  caution  saved 
me  from  ever  getting  embarrassed.  If  it  were 
more  generally  adopted,  we  should  see  fewer  fail- 


AMOS   LAWRENCE.  223 

iires  in  business.  Excessive  credit  is  the  rock  on 
which  so  many  business  men  are  broken. 

"  When  I  commenced,  the  Embargo  had  just 
been  laid,  and  with  such  restrictions  on  trade  that 
many  were  induced  to  leave  it.  But  I  felt  great 
confidence  that,  by  industry,  economy,  and  integ- 
rity, I  could  get  a  Uving,  and  the  experiment 
showed  that  I  was  right.  Most  of  the  young  men 
who  commenced  at  that  period  failed  by  spending 
too  much  money,  and  using  credit  too  freely.  I 
made  about  fifteen  hundred  dollars  the  first  year, 
and  more  than  four  thousand  the  second.  Proba- 
bly had  I  made  four  thousand  the  first  year,  I 
should  have  failed  the  second  or  third  year.  I 
practised  the  system  of  rigid  economy,  and  nevei* 
allowed  myself  to  spend  a  fourpence  for  unneces- 
sary objects,  until  I  had  acquired  it." 

In  another  letter  to  a  friend,  he  writes  : 

During  the  first  seven  years  of  my  business  in 
this  city,  I  never  allowed  a  bill  against  me  to  stand 
unsettled  over  the  Sabbath.  If  the  purchases  of 
goods  were  made  at  auction  on  Saturday,  and  de- 
livered to  me,  I  always  examined  and  settled  the 
bill  by  note  or  by  crediting  it,  and  having  it  clear, 
so  that,  in  case  I  was  not  on  duty  on  Monday,  there 
would  be  no  trouble  for  my  boys ;  thus  keeping 
the  business  before  me,  instead  of  allowing  it  to 
drive  me." 

Mr.  Lawrence  improved  his  leisure  time  in  read- 
ing and  studying.  In  writing  to  his  son,  many 
years  afterward,  he  says : 


224  FxVMOUS    BOYS. 

"  When  I  first  came  to  this  city,  I  took  lodgings 
in  the  family  of  a  widow  who  had  commenced 
keeping  boarders  for  a  living.  I  was  one  of  her 
first,  and  she,  of  course,  while  I  remained,  was 
inclined  to  adopt  any  rules  for  the  boarders  that  I 
prescribed.  The  only  one  I  ever  made  was,  that, 
after  supper,  all  the  boarders  who  remained  in  the 
public  room  should  remain  quiet  at  least  for  one 
hour,  to  give  those  who  chose  to  study  or  read  an 
opportunity  of  doing  so  without  disturbance.  The 
consequence  was,  that  we  had  the  most  quiet  and 
improving  set  of  young  men  in  the  town.  The 
few  who  did  not  wish  to  comply  with  the  regula- 
tion went  abroad  after  tea,  sometimes  to  the 
theatre,  sometimes  to  other  places,  but,  to  a  man, 
became  bankrupt  in  after  life,  not  only  in  fortune, 
but  in  reputation ;  while  a  majority  of  the  other 
class  sustained  good  characters,  and  some  are  now 
living  who  are  ornaments  to  society,  and  fill  im- 
portant stations.  The  influence  of  this  small 
measure  will  perhaps  be  felt  throughout  genera- 
tions. It  was  not  less  favorable  on  myself  than  on 
others." 

From  this  point  Mr.  Lawrence  advanced  rapidly 
to  fortune.  He  became  one  of  the  leading  and 
most  influential  merchants  of  New  England,  and 
for  many  years  was  identified  with  some  of  the 
largest  manufacturing  and  mercantile  transactions 
of  the  country.  By  well-directed  prudence  and 
great  commercial  sagacity,  Amos  Lawrence,  in 
co-operation  with  his  brother  Abbott,  whom  he 


AMOS  LAWRENCE.  225 

had  received  into  partnership,  guided  his  business 
through  many  storms,  and  at  a  time  when  credit 
was  shaken  in  every  leading  city  of  the  Union,  he 
was  enabled  to  stand  firm.  His  wealth  soon  be- 
came almost  enormous,  but  his  benevolence  fully 
kept  pace  with  his  gains.  As  soon  as  he  found 
himself  in  possession  of  an  income  more  than  suffi- 
cient for  his  frugal  wants,  he  began  to  systemati- 
cally relieve  the  destitute,  and  to  contribute  to  all 
worthy  charities.  His  gifts  soon  became  bountiful. 
He  made  money,  but  he  made  it  that  he  might 
bestow.  During  his  lifetime  the  sums  that  he  ex- 
pended for  purposes  of  charity  exceeded  six  hund- 
red thousand  dollars.  A  peculiarity  of  his  bounty 
was  the  personal  attention  and  sympathy  with 
which  it  was  bestowed.  "  He  had  in  his  house," 
says  Professor  Hopkins,  "  a  room  where  he  kept 
stores  of  useful  articles  for  distribution.  lie  made 
up  the  bundle ;  he  directed  the  package.  No  de- 
tail was  overlooked.  He  remembered  the  children, 
and  designated  for  each  the  toy,  the  book,  the 
elegant  gift.  He  thought  of  every  want,  and  was 
ingenious  and  happy  in  devising  appropriate  gifts. 
In  this  attention  to  the  minutest  token  of  regard, 
while,  at  the  same  time,  he  could  give  away  thou- 
sands like  a  prince,  he  was  unequaled ;  and  if  the 
gift  was  appropriate,  the  manner  of  giving  was  not 
less  so.  There  was  in  this  the  nicest  appreciation 
of  the  feeling  of  others,  and  an  intuitive  perception 
of  delicacy  and  propriety.  These  were  the  char- 
acteristics that  gave  him  a  hold  upon  the  hearts 
15 


S2§  FAAtOUS   BOYS. 

of  mati  j,  and  made  his  death  really  felt  as  that 
of  few  other  men  in  Boston  could  have  been.  In 
this  we  find  not  a  little  of  the  utility  and  much  of 
the  beauty  of  charity.  Even  in  his  human  life  man 
does  not  live  by  bread  alone,  but  by  sympathy 
and  the  play  of  reciprocal  afiection,  and  is  often 
more  touched  by  the  kindness  than  by  the  relief. 
Only  this  sympathy  it  is  that  can  establish  the 
right  relation  between  the  rich  and  the  poor,  and 
the  necessity  for  this  can  be  superseded  by  no 
legal  provision.  This  only  can  neutralize  the  re- 
pellent and  aggressive  tendencies  of  individuals 
and  of  classes,  and  make  society  a  brotherhood, 
where  the  various  inequalities  shall  work  out 
moral  goo  1,  and  Avhere  acts  of  mutual  kindness 
and  helpfulness  may  pass  and  repass,  as  upon  a 
golden  chain,  during  a  brief  pi  grimage  and  scene 
of  probation.  It  is  a  great  and  a  good  thing  for  a 
rich  man  to  set  the  stream  of  charity  in  motion  ; 
to  employ  an  agent,  to  send  a  check,  to  found  an 
asylum,  to  endow  a  professorship,  to  open  a  foun- 
tain that  shall  flow  for  ages ;  but  it  is  as  different 
from  sympathy  with  present  suflering,  and  the  re- 
lief of  immediate  want,  as  the  building  of  a  dam 
to  turn  a  fiictory  by  one  great  sluiceway  is  from 
the  irrigation  of  the  fields.  By  Mr.  Lawrence 
both  were  done.  He  gave  as  a  Christian  man, 
from  a  sense  of  religious  obligation  ;  not  that  all 
his  gifts  had  a  religious  aspect :  he  gave  gifts  of 
friendship  and  afiection.  There  was  a  large  in- 
closure  where  the  afiTections  walked  foremost,  and 


AMOS    LAWRENCE.  22T 

where,  though  they  asked  leave  of  Duty,  they  yet 
received  no  prompting  from  her." 

We  quote  the  following  estimate  of  Mr.  Law- 
rence's religious  character : 

"  He  was  a  deeply-religious  man.  His  trust  in 
God  and  his  hope  of  salvation  through  Christ  were 
the  basis  of  his  character.  He  believed  in  the 
providence  of  God  as  concerned  in  all  events,  and 
as  discriminating  and  retributive  in  this  world. 
He  felt  that  he  could  trust  God  in  his  providence 
where  he  could  not  see.  '  The  events  of  my  life,' 
he  says,  '  have  been  so  far  ordered  in  a  way  to 
make  me  feel  that  I  know  nothing  at  the  time 
except  that  a  Father  rules ;  and  his  discipline, 
however  severe,  is  never  more  so  than  is  required.' 
He  believed  in  the  Bible,  and  saw  rightly  its  re- 
lation to  all  our  blessings.  '  What,'  he  writes 
again,  '  should  we  do  if  the  Bible  were  not  the 
foundation  of  our  self-government  ?  and  what  will 
become  of  us  when  we  willfully  and  wickedly 
cast  it  behind  us  ?'  He  read  the  Bible  morning 
and  evening  in  his  family,  and  prayed  with  them  j 
and  it  may  aid  those  who  are  acquainted  with  the 
prayers  of  Thornton,  in  forming  a  concejition  of 
his  religious  character,  to  know  that  he  used 
them.  Family  religion  he  esteemed  as  above  all 
price ;  and  when  he  first  learned  that  a  beloved 
relative  had  established  family  worship,  he  wept 
for  joy.  He  distributed  religious  books  very  ex- 
tensively, chiefly  those  of  the  American  Tract 
Society    and    of    the   American    Sunday    School 


228  FA^rous  boys. 

Union.  *  *  *  Of  creeds  held  in  the  under- 
standing, but  not  influencing  the  life,  he  thought 
little,  and  the  tendency  of  his  mind  was  to  prac- 
tical rather  than  doctrinal  views.  He  believed  in 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  as  a  Saviour,  and  trusted  in 
him  for  salvation.  He  was  a  man  of  habitual 
prayer.  The  last  time  I  visited  him,  he  said  to 
me  that  he  had  been  restless  during  the  night, 
and  that  the  only  way  in  which  he  could  get 
'  quieted  was  by  getting  near  to  God,'  and  that 
he  went  to  sleep  repeating  a  prayer.  During  the 
same  visit,  he  spoke  strongly  of  his  readiness,  and 
even  of  his  desire  to  depart.  He  viewed  death 
with  tranquility  and  hope,  and  preparation  for  it 
was  habitual  with  him.  What  need  I  say  more  ? 
At  midnight  the  summons  came,  and  his  work  was 
done." 

Amos  Lawrence  died  on  the  31st  of  December, 
1852. 


STEPHEN   GIEAED. 

Stepen  Gieard  was  born  on  the  24th  of  May, 
1750,  near  Bordeaux,  in  France.  His  parents  were 
in  an  humble  sphere  of  life,  and  his  education  was 
confined  to  a  limited  knowledge  of  reading  and 
writing.  He  left  his  native  country  at  the  age  of 
ten  or  twelve  years,  as  a  cabin-boy  in  a  vessel 
bound  for  the  West  Indies.  The  loss  of  his  eye  at 
that  time  tended  to  increase  the  natural  morose- 
ness  of  his  temper,  as  he  was  sensitive  to  the  ridi- 
cule of  his  associates.  He  remained  but  a  short 
time  in  the  West  Indies,  and  again  as  cabin-boy 
sailed  for  New  York.  Having  gained  the  confi- 
dence of  his  employer,  he  became  first  mate,  then 
captain  of  a  small  vessel,  and  made  several  profit- 
able voyages  to  New  Orleans.  Engaging  success- 
fully in  small  adventures,  he  soon  became  part 
owner  of  the  cargo  and  vessel  which  he  com- 
manded. It  is  not  known  what  first  induced  him 
to  go  to  Philadelphia,  but  he  became,  in  1V69,  an 
obscure  trader  in  Water  Street.  About  this  time 
he  was  married,  and  his  only  child  died  in  child- 
hood. 

In  partnership  with  Isaac  Hazlehurst,  Esq.,  of 


230  FAMOUS    EOYS. 

Philadelphia,  he  purchased  two  vessels  to  trade 
with  St.  Domingo,  but  the  vessels  were  captured, 
and  taken  to  Jamaica,  and  the  firm  was  dissolved. 
From  1772  to  1776  he  probably  acted  as  shipmas- 
ter and  merchant,  dispatching  goods  to  New  Or- 
leans or  St.  Domingo,  remaining  at  home  some- 
times to  settle  accounts  and  adjust  profits.  The 
war  which  followed  injured  his  commercial  busi- 
ness, and  he  opened  a  small  grocery  shop  in  Water 
Street,  connected  with  a  bottling  establishment 
for  claret  and  cider.  On  the  approach  of  the 
British,  in  1 777,  he  purchased  a  small  tract  of  land, 
called  Mount  Holly,  on  which  was  a  hous6,  where 
he  sold  his  fluids  to  great  advantage  to  the  Ameri- 
can soldiers,  as  the  encampment  was  in  the  vi- 
cinity. Upon  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia,  he 
returned  to  the  city,  and  occupied  a  range  of  frame 
stores  in  Water  Street,  which  were  filled  with 
pieces  of  cordage,  sails,  and  old  V  )cks,  destined 
to  fit  out  ships  at  some  future  timj. 

In  1780,  Girard  again  entered  upon  the  New 
Orleans  and  St.  Domingo  trade,  and  increased  his 
gains  so  much  as  to  enable  him  to  extend  his  en- 
terprises to  a  larger  scale.  He  leased  for  ten 
years  a  range  of  brick  and  frame  stores,  one  of 
which  he  occupied,  and  rented  the  others  to  great 
advantage,  and  has  been  heard  to  say  he  dated 
his  subsequent  good  fortune  to  this  foundation. 
His  connection  with  his  brother.  Captain  John 
Girard,  terminated  in  consequence  of  misunder- 
standing, and  the  partnership  was  dissolved;  his 


STEPHEN   GtRAED.  331 

share  of  the  business  amounting  to  about  thirty 
thousand  dollars.  His  wife  died  in  1815,  having 
been  twenty-five  years  a  patient  in  the  insane  de- 
partment of  the  Pennsylvania  Hospital,  on  which 
occasion  he  presented  to  that  institution  the  sum 
of  three  thousand  dollars,  besides  Hberally  reward- 
ing the  attendants.  His  profits  were  greatly  in- 
creased by  the  circumstance  of  two  of  his  ships 
being  at  St.  Domingo  at  the  time  of  the  insurrec- 
tion on  that  island.  The  planters  in  their  alarm 
rushed  to  the  docks  to  deposit  their  most  valuable 
property  in  the  sliips  lying  there,  and  on  returning 
to  secure  more,  most  of  them  were  massacred, 
and  but  few  claims  were  ever  made  on  the  pro- 
perty, which  was  found  to  be  very  great.  This 
was  sent  to  Philadelphia,  and  added  greatly  to  his 
original  fortune. 

In  the  year  1791,  Mr.  Girard  commenced  build- 
ing ships — which  have  been  a  source  of  pride  to 
Philadelphia — to  engage  in  trade  with  Calcutta 
and  China.  He  showed  some  national  feeling  in 
naming  his  ships  Montesquieu,  Helvetius,  Vol- 
taire, and  Rousseau.  His  conduct,  during  the 
dreadful  pestilence  which  in  1793  visited  the 
beautiful  city  of  Philadelphia,  is  well  known,  and 
sufficient  to  redeem  his  character  from  the  selfish- 
ness and  want  of  feehng  generally  attributed  to  it. 
He  entered  into  the  most  loathsome  abodes,  and 
performed  constantly  at  the  hospital  the  most 
menial  services.  It  is  probable  that  his  early 
residence  in  a  tropical  climate  made  him  less  liable 


FAMOUS   BOYS. 


to  the  disease,  but  this  does  not  in  any  degree 
abate  the  credit  he  deserves  for  exposing  his  Hfe 
for  his  fellow-beings. 

The  establishment  of  his  private  bank,  which 
was  probably  at  first  intended  merely  as  a  tempo- 
rary circumstance,  finally  conferred  upon  the  com- 
munity great  advantages,  and  rendered  very  im- 
portant service  to  the  government.  A  circum- 
stance which  occurred  in  1813  enabled  him  to  add 
materially  to  his  own  funds,  besides  the  benefit  to 
the  national  treasury  from  the  duties  due  to  the 
government.  His  ship,  the  Montesquieu,  was  cap- 
tured in  the  Delaware  by  a  British  frigate,  with 
an  invoiced  cargo  of  two  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars, consisting  of  teas,  nankeen,  and  silks,  from 
Canton ;  but  it  was  determined  by  the  captors,  to 
avoid  the  risk  of  a  recapture  in  attempting  to 
carry  their  prize  to  a  British  port,  to  send  a  flag 
of  truce  to  Mr.  Girard  with  a  proposal  of  ransom. 
He  immediately  sent  to  the  British  commander 
the  sum  of  ninety-three  thousand  dollars  in  doub- 
loons; and  is  supposed  to  have  realised  by  the 
transaction  half  a  million  of  dollars.  His  patriot- 
ism was  shown  in  1814,  by  his  judicious  and 
liberal  aid  to  the  country  at  a  time  when  an  in- 
vading army  was  marching  over  the  land,  and  the 
national  treasury  exhausted. 

One  of  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  Mr. 
Girard  was  his  public  spirit.  He  subscribed  one 
hundred  and  ten  thousand  dollars  for  the  naviga- 
tion of  the  Schuylkill,  besides  numerous  loans  at 


STEPHEN   GIRAKD.  233 

vario'  s  times.  At  one  time,  when  the  county  was 
believed  to  have  been  injured  by  an  injudicious 
course  of  internal  improvements,  he  made  a  volun- 
tary loan  of  one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  He 
erected  in  Philadelphia  numerous  blocks  of  build- 
ings, adding  much  to  its  beauty.  Among  other 
public -spirited  acts  he  subscribed  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars  to  the  Danville  and  Pottsville 
Railroad,  and  ten  thousand  dollars  toward  the 
erection  of  a  public  Exchange. 

In  person,  Mr.  Girard  was  low  and  square,  but 
muscular,  and  bearing  the  characteristic  appear- 
ance of  an  old  sailor.  His  skin  was  dark,  and  the 
loss  of  his  eye  added  to  the  cold  and  hard  expres- 
sion of  his  face.  His  style  of  dress  was  peculiar,* 
and  generally  very  shabby.  His  equipage  was 
always  mean,  and  his  personal  habits  penurious  in 
the  extreme. 

Mr.  Girard  lived  to  the  advanced  age  of  eighty- 
four,  and  his  death  was  hastened  from  his  disregard 
of  all  assistance.  Being  partially  blind,  he  was 
knocked  down  by  a  wagon  when  crossing  the 
street,  which  nearly  took  off  his  ear,  seriously 
bruised  his  head,  and  almost  totally  deprived  him 
of  sight.  From  this  time  his  health  declined,  and, 
in  December,  1830,  an  attack  of  influenza  ended 
his  existence.  He  died  on  the  26th  of  that  month, 
in  a  back-room  at  his  house  in  Water  Street.  By 
his  will  he  bequeathed  to  the  Pennsylvania  Hospi- 
tal, thirty  thousand  dollars ;  to  the  Deaf  and  Dumb 
Institution,  twenty  thousand ;  to  the  Public  Schools 


234  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

of  the  city  and  county  of  Pliiladel]"»hia,  ten  thou- 
sand ;  to  the  Orphans'  Asylum,  ten  thousand ;  to 
the  Relief  of  Distressed  Masters  of  Ships,  ten 
thousand ;  to  the  Masonic  Loan,  twenty  thousand ; 
for  the  erection  of  a  pubUc  school,  six  thousand ; 
to  all  the  captains  in  his  employ,  having  performed 
a  given  service,  fifteen  hundred  dollars  each  ;  to 
his  apprentices,  each  five  hundred  dollars ;  to  the 
city  of  New  Orleans,  two  hundred  and  eight 
thousand  acres  of  land,  with  thirty  slaves ;  and  the 
remainder  of  his  lands  in  Louisiana  to  the  corj^o- 
ration  of  Philadelphia ;  to  the  commonwealth  of 
Pennsylvania  he  gave  three  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars for  internal  improvement;  the  sum  of  two 
«nillions  was  left  for  the  purpose  of  the  erection  of 
a  building,  and  founding  a  college  for  orphan 
children.  In  addition  to  these,  Mr.  Girard  made 
considerable  bequests  to  his  relatives  ;  but  the  bulk 
of  his  immense  fortune  was  left  to  the  city  of 
Philadelphia,  where  his  fortune  had  been  made. 
He  gave  in  his  will  particular  directions  for  expend- 
ing portions  of  his  wealth  in  certain  public  im- 
provements ;  among  others,  five  hundred  thousand 
dollars  for  the  improvement  of  the  Delaware  front 
of  the  city,  and  the  widening  of  Water  Street ; 
and  he  desired  that  a  square  which  he  had  long 
kept  vacant  should  be  intersected  by  a  street,  and 
covered  with  four  blocks  of  buildings,  erected  on 
a  uniform  plan,  which  was  done  soon  after  his 
decease;  and  the  rents  of  these  buildings  now 
constitute  an  important  part  of  the  revenues  of  the 


STEPHEN   GIBABD.  235 

city.  The  new  street  afld  the  splendid  row  of 
buildings  ou  Chesuut  are  now  respectively  desig- 
nated by  the  name  of  Girard. 

"  In  his  will,"  says  his  biographer,  "  he  clearly 
showed  what  had  been  the  object  of  his  long  and 
fixed  labor  in  acquisition.  While  he  was  forward 
— with  an  apparent  disregard  of  self — to  expose 
his  life  on  behalf  of  others  in  the  midst  of  pesti- 
lence, to  aid  the  internal  improvements  of  the 
country,  and  to  promote  his  commercial  prosperity 
by  all  the  means  withm  his  power,  he  yet  had 
more  ambitious  designs.  He  wished  to  hand  him- 
self down  to  immortality  by  the  only  mode  that 
was  practicable  for  a  man  in  his  position,  and  he 
accomplished  precisely  that  which  was  the  grand 
aim  of  his  life.  He  wrote  his  epitaph  in  those  ex- 
tensive and  magnificent  blocks  and  spaces  which 
adorn  the  streets  of  his  adopted  city,  in  the  public 
works  and  eleemosynary  establishments  of  his 
adopted  state,  and  erected  his  own  monument  and 
embodied  his  own  principles  in  a  maible-roofed 
palace  for  the  education  of  the  orphan  poor.  We 
who  shall  hereafter  gaze  upon  that  splendid  edi- 
fice, the  most  perfect  model  of  architecture  in  the 
Kew  World,  will  perceive  the  result  of  the  singu- 
lar character  of  its  founder,  and  shall  be  left  in 
doubt  whether,  after  all,  his  faults  were  not  over- 
balanced by  his  ultimate  munificence." 

A   VISIT   TO    GIRARD    COLLEGE. 

This  noble  charity  is,  perhaps,  both  internally 


FAMOUS   BOYS. 

and  externally,  the  finest*edifice  of  which  America 
can  boast ;  and  all  the  gift  of  a  shrewd,  enterpris- 
ing, persevering,  albeit  miserly,  unbelieving  old 
sailor.  The  main  edifice  is  modeled  after  the  Par- 
thenon at  Athens.  Its  colonnade  is  Corinthian, 
and  single;  that  of  the  Parthenon  was  double, 
and  Doric.  But  here  comparison  is  at  an  end. 
The  friezes  of  the  Parthenon  were  the  work  of 
Phidias,  and  the  pride  not  only  of  Grecian  sculp- 
ture, but  the  architectural  glory  of  the  world.  The 
Parthenon  cost  six  millions;  Girard  College  two. 
Each  of  these  magnificient  columns  cost  fourteen 
thousand  dollars — sufficient,  column  by  column,  to 
erect  a  substantial  college  edifice. 

On  entering  the  lofty  doorway,  thirty-six  feet  in 
height,  pay  your  respects  to  Stephen  Girard. 
There  he  stands,  right  before  you,  in  marble,  with 
his  hands  crossed  before  him,  in  plain  citizen's 
dress,  just  as  he  walked  the  streets  of  Philadel- 
phia. A  plain  iron  railing  surrounds  the  statue, 
and  keeps  all  comers  at  a  respectable  distance.  At 
the  right,  is  the  spacious  council-rooms  of  the 
boai'd  of  directors ;  at  the  left,  the  doorway  of  the 
great  chapel.  Beyond  are  recitation  rooms.  In 
one,  a  professor  was  lecturing  to  the  larger  boys 
on  anatomy.  When  he  proposed  a  question, 
dozens  rose  from  their  seats,  and  waved  their 
hands  in  t(»ken  of  being  able  to  answer.  The  for- 
tunate fellow  to  whom  he  nodded,  shouted  the 
reply.  In  the  rooms  above  were  large  classes 
under  the  care  of  female  teachers.     The  tender 


STEPHEN    GIKAED.  237 

age  of  the  orphans  requires,  at  present,  maternal 
influence ;  and  this  they  receive,  both  at  the  hands 
of  their  instructors,  and  from  the  matrons  of  the 
boarding  estabhshments.  The  rooms  upon  the 
third  floor  of  the  college  are  lighted  from  the  roof. 
Here  is  the  library ;  here  is  the  wardrobe  of  Girard 
— the  old  pantaloons,  patched  upon  the  knee  with 
pieces  of  different  colors,  worn  by  the  millionaire 
a  short  time  before  his  death.  Here  are  boxes  of 
shipping  papers,  his  secretoire  and  iron  safe.  From 
thence,  clamber  to  the  top  of  the  immense  struc- 
ture. A  roof  of  marble !  Six  thousand  tons  of 
marble  in  the  roof  alone  will  give  the  imagination 
or  calculation  of  the  reader  some  data  for  the  esti- 
mation of  the  enormous  weight  of  other  parts  of 
the  structure,  or  of  the  building  as  a  whole.  The 
building  is  all  marble!  Only  one  little  staircase 
leading  to  the  roof  is  of  wood;  the  rest  is  all  solid 
masonry.  The  reverberations  of  the  lofty  ceilings 
totally  unfitted  the  rooms  for  school  purposes.  This 
had  to  be  remedied  by  interposing  an  artificial 
ceiling  of  canvas  or  cotton  cloth,  to  muffle  the 
sound,  or  stifle  the  echoes  which  the  slightest 
word  or  footfall  generated  by  the  million  in  the 
vaulted  chambers. 

In  the  school-rooms  the  desks  and  seats  are  ele- 
vated by  the  thickness  of  a  single  plank,  lest  the 
coldness  or  dampness  of  the  stone-flagged  floor 
should  induce  cold  feet,  and  thus  injure  the 
health  of  the  pupils. 

At  five   o'clock   we   went  to    the    chapel  for 


238  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

prayers.  Across  the  entire  west  end  of  the  chapel 
is  an  elevated  platform.  In  its  centre  is  a  regular 
pulpit  or  reading-desk,  occupied  by  the  president 
in  isolated  dignity.  At  his  left  was  a  splendid 
piano  :  on  either  hand,  on  settees  and  chairs,  the 
faculty  of  the  institution,  and  visitors,  of  whom 
they  have  from  one  hundred  and  fifty  to  two 
hundred  a  day.  Here  collected,  in  quiet  and  order, 
three  hundred  orphan  boys,  each  section  under  the 
care  of  its  own  director.  Each  had  his  hymn- 
book  and  Bible.  Here  three  hundred  voices  joined 
to  sing  in  moving  melody, 

"Come,  let  us  join  our  cheerful  songs 
With  angels  round  the  throne." 

No  chance  for  infidelity  or  heterodoxy  here, 
thought  we,  as  the  charming  volume  of  infant 
voices  rolled  forth  the  sentiments,  impressing  them- 
selves, doubtless,  by  the  power  of  the  ever-present 
Spirit,  signally  upon  the  infant  heart : — 

"Worthy  the  Lamb  that  died,  they  cry, 
To  be  exalted  thus ; 
"Worthy  the  Lamb,  our  hearts  reply, 
For  he  was  slain  for  us." 

When  the  president  took  up  the  Bible,  after  the 
singing,  every  pupil  opened  to  the  chapter  named, 
and  followed  the  reading  with  attention ;  and  when 
he  said,  "  Let  us  pray,"  every  one  kneeled  rever- 
ently in  his  place,  before  that  God  who  has  pro- 


STEPHEN    GIRAED.  239 

mised  to  be  a  father  to  the  fatherless,  and  the 
widow's  God.  The  sight  was  beyond  measure 
affecting. 

Under  the  efficient  management  of  the  president 
and  the  able  board  of  directors,  every  thing  has 
been  reduced  to  the  most  perfect  system.  The 
lads  retired  from  the  chapel  as  quietly  as  they  had 
entered  it.  Merry  was  the  shout  that  arose  from 
the  lawn  appropriated  for  the  playground,  when, 
the  restraints  of  the  day  over,  they  were  permitted 
to  exercise  themselves  before  tea,  in  the  open  air. 
We  saw  them  at  supper.  They  repair  to  the 
dining-hall  in  the  same  admirable  order,  section 
by  section.  As  the  procession,  two  and  two,  enter 
the  door,  they  divide  at  the  head  of  the  table,  and 
one  line  goes  down  one  side,  and  the  other  the 
other,  each  to  his  appropriated  seat.  The  fare  is 
simple  ;  weak  tea  or  water,  bread  and  butter, 
or  bread  and  molasses,  constitute  the  healthful 
regimen. 

The  washing-room  was  a  curiosity.  Every  body 
had  a  tin  basin,  towel,  hair-brush,  clothes-brush, 
tooth-brush,  and  looking-glass,  to  himself  The 
supply  of  water  from  hydrants  was  plentiful,  and 
once  a  week,  or  oftener,  they  were  required  to 
bathe  in  rooms  or  tubs  prepared  for  the  purpose. 
Every  boy  had  drawers  for  his  clothing,  labelled 
with  his  name,  and  in  the  dormitories  every  one 
was  provided  with  an  iron  bedstead,  with  plenty 
of  bedding,  covered  with  a  counterpane  of  spot- 
less whiteness.     Nearly  all  the  orphans  are  from 


240  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

the  city  and  county  of  Philadelphia.  To  prevent 
the  interference  of  friends,  they  are  all  indentured 
apprentices,  according  to  the  laws  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, 


SAMUEL  CROMPTOI^. 

The  results  of  perseverance  are  seen  not  only 
in  individual  progress  and  personal  success,  but  in 
the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  towns,  of  districts, 
of  countries.  Some  ingenious  mechanic,  to  further 
his  own  ends,  may  devise  a  machine  which  may 
save  him  from  many  tedious  hours'  labor  :  the 
machine  not  only  answers  his  individual  ends,  but 
is  an  invention  for  all  time,  to  save  so  much  man- 
ual labor  to  the  human  family.  No  more  remark- 
able instance  is  to  be  found  than  in  the  life  of 
Samuel  Crompton,  the  inventor  of  the  "  Spinning 
Mule."  His  discovery  gave  an  immense  impetus 
to  the  industry  of  the  people  of  Lancashire, 
causing  insignificant  villages  to  spring  into  large 
and  important  towns. 

Samuel  Crompton  was  born  on  the  3rd  of  De- 
cember, 1753.  His  ancestors  had  occupied  dis- 
tinguished positions  both  in  the  commercial  and 
legal  world.  His  parents  resided  at  Firwood,  in 
the  township  of  Tonge,  near  Bolton ;  they  were 
farmers,  but,  as  was  the  custom  of  the  time,  the 
leisure  of  the  family  was  devoted  to  carding, 
spinning,  and  weaving.  George  Crompton,  the 
16 


242  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

father  of  Samuel,  died  at  the  early  age  of  thirty- 
seven.  He  and  his  wife,  Elizabeth  (better  known 
as  Betty)  Holt,  of  Turton,  were  religious  people, 
regularly  attending  the  services  at  the  Chapel-in- 
the-fields,  now  kno\vn  as  All  Saints'  Church,  Little 
Bolton. 

Fortunately  for  Samuel,  his  mother  was  a  pru- 
dent and  exemplary  w^oman.  She  had  decision 
and  energy  in  her  character :  some  thought  her 
self-willed  and  imperative ;  but  no  mother  could 
have  been  kinder  or  more  solicitous  for  her  son's 
welfare  than  Betty  Crompton  Avas  for  her  son 
Samuel.  The  school  that  this  good  woman  sent 
her  boy  to  was  kept  by  one  William  Barlow,  who 
had  quite  a  reputation  for  his  skill  in  writing, 
arithmetic,  book-keeping,  geometry,  mensuration, 
and  mathematics  ;  he  was  styled  "  a  witch  in 
figures."  No  doubt  this  school  afforded  Samuel 
all  the  education  that  he  received,  and  that  his 
attendance  was  not  protracted  to  any  lengthened 
period,  as  his  mother  would  be  anxious  to  avail 
herself  of  his  earliest  capable  services.  During 
this  period,  Samuel  says  that  his  mother  practised 
to  the  very  letter  the  injunctions  of  Scripture,  many 
times  subjecting  him  to  a  beating,  not  for  any 
fault,  but  because  "  she  so  loved  him" — an  excess 
of  kindness  from  which  she  might  have  been 
excused. 

When  Samuel  was  in  his  sixteenth  year  he  was 
occupied  at  the  loom  at  his  mother's  house.  For 
sjix  years  previous  there  had  been  a  great  demand 


SAMITEL    CROMPTON.  243 

for  cotton  goods,  and  especially  for  imitations  of 
the  muslins  sent  from  India.  The  efforts  of  the 
manufiicturers  to  produce  these  goods  at  home 
were  fruitless.  A  little  advance  had  been  made 
in  the  means  of  producing  the  cloth ;  Kay,  of 
Bury,  had  invented  a  mode  of  throwing  the  shuttle 
by  a  simple  contrivance  by  which  the  weaver 
could  make  twice  as  much  cloth ;  and  Hargreaves, 
a  weaver  of  Stand-hill,  near  Blackburn,  had  invent- 
ed the  jenny.  But  both  Kay  and  Hargreaves  were 
driven  from  their  country  by  the  ignorant  prejud- 
ices of  their  fellow-workmen,  who  conceived  that 
their  inventions  would  throw  them  out  of  employ. 
While  Samuel  was  working  at  home  on  one  of 
these  machines,  he  was  also  learning  to  think. 
His  mother  exacted  a  certain  amount  of  work 
daily.  His  leisure,  however — for  he  had  some 
hours  of  relaxation — was  devoted  to  making  a 
violin,  which  he  soon  learned  to  play  upon,  con- 
tracting a  love  for  the  instrument  which  never 
afterward  left  him.  This,  and  the  few  books  which 
were  at  his  command,  filled  up  the  spare  time  not 
given  to  his  daily  tasks. 

When  Samuel  was  in  his  twenty-first  year,  he 
commenced  the  construction  of  his  "  Mule,"  which 
took  him  five  years  to  perfect.  He  thus  briefly 
relates  the  experience  of  these  years : — 

"  The  next  five  years  had  this  addition  to  my 
labor  as  a  weaver,  occasioned  by  the  imperfect 
state  of  cotton-spinning,  viz.,  a  continual  endeavor 
to  realize  a  more   perfect  principle  of  spinning ; 


244  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

and,  thougli  often  baffled,  I  as  often  renewed  the 
attempt,  and  at  length  succeeded  to  my  utmost 
desire,  at  the  expense  of  every  shilKng  I  had  in 
the  world." 

All  this  experimenting  was  done  at  "over 
hours. '^  This  also  necessitated  many  hours  which 
should  have  been  spent  in  bed,  being  devoted  to 
the  "improvements."  The  lights  and  noises  at 
all  sorts  of  untimely  hours  heard  and  seen  at  the 
old  Hall,  originated  a  report  that  it  was  haunted. 
This  was,  no  doubt,  the  fact;  but  it  was  with 
Samuel's  restless  spirit,  which  would  not  be  laid 
until  his  object  was  attained.  The  only  tools  he 
had  to  work  with  were  a  few  sacredly  preserved 
by  his  mother,  that  were  once  the  property  of  his 
father,  and  used  by  him  in  the  construction  of  a 
church  organ.  Every  spare  shilling  was  devoted 
to  adding  to  their  number ;  and,  for  this  purpose, 
Samuel  frequently  hired  himself  and  his  darling 
violin  to  the  manager  of  the  Bolton  Theatre  for 
one  shilling  and  sixpence  per  night,  so  that  he 
might  purchase  some  needed  tool  for  his  inven- 
tions. The  "Mule"  was  chiefly  constructed  of 
wood  ;  but  parts  of  it  were  of  iron,  as  it  has  sub- 
sequently been  ascertained  that  he  frequently 
visited  a  small  way-side  smithy  in  the  township, 
Avhere  he  "  used  to  file  his  bits  of  things." 

In  a  paper  which  John  Kennedy,  Esq.,  read  be- 
fore the  Manchester  Literary  and  Philosophical 
Society  in  1830,  he  informs  us  that  "Crompton's 
machine  was  called  the  '  Hall-in-the-wood  wheel, 


SAMUEL    CROMPTOX.  245 

or  muslin  wheel,  because  its  capabilities  rendered 
it  available  for  yarn  for  making  muslins  ;  and  finally 
it  got  the  name  of  the  '  Muk,  from  its  partaking 
of  the  two  leading  features  of  Mr.  Arkwright's 
machine  and  Hargreaves's  spinning-jenny." 

When  Crompton  was  just  on  the  eve  of  couv 
pleting  his  machine,  in  1779,  the  Blackburn  spin- 
ners and  weavers  were  excited  to  riot  against  the 
machinery,  which  they  ignorantly  supposed  would 
destroy  their  means  of  living.  Every  jenny  for 
miles  round  Blackburn  was  destroyed,  excepthig 
such  only  as  had  less  than  twenty  spindles.  Samuel, 
during  this  outbreak,  took  his  machine  to  pieces 
and  concealed  the  parts  in  the  loft  or  garret,  not 
daring  to  put  them  together  for  some  weeks  after. 
In  the  course  of  the  same  year,  however,  it  was  all 
complete,  and  yarn  spun  upon  it,  which  was  used 
for  the  manufacture  of  muslins  of  a  very  fine  de- 
scription. 

The  first  profits  of  the  "  Mule"  were  spent  upon 
a  silver  watch,  made  expressly  for  Samuel  by  a 
watchmaker  in  Bolton.  This  which  was  his  con- 
stant companion  for  fifty  years.  Soon  after,  Samuel 
set  up  house  on  his  own  account  in  a  cottage  at- 
tached to  the  old  Hall,  taking  home  Mary  Pimlott, 
who  made  him  an  excellent  wife  and  judicious  ad- 
viser. She  is  said  to  have  been  gifted  with  an  ad- 
ditional sense  "something  like  Scotch  second-sight, 
by  which  she  could  tell  a  rogue  in  an  instant,  and 
warn  her  family  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him." 
Samuel  now  worked  upon  his  "  Mule" '  with  the 


24:0  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

utmost  secrecy,  and  astonished  the  manufacturers 
by  lYiQ  fineness  and  firmness  of  the  yarn  he  pro- 
duced. Everything  at  this  time  had  a  promising 
and  cheery  look  for  a  happy  future. 

Samuel  was  then  only  twenty-seven  years  of 
age,  and  the  inventor  of  a  machine  which  from  the 
first  hour  of  its  completion  altered  the  entire  sys- 
tem of  cotton  manufactures  in  the  country.  It 
w^as  now  seen  that  the  much-coveted  India-muslins, 
could  be  made  at  home.  We  may  well  suppose, 
therefore,  that  the  neighboring  manufocturers 
were  very  anxious  to  penetrate  the  secret  of 
Samuel's  invention.  This,  of  course,  he  was  very 
unwilling  to  disclose.  The  old  Hall  was  besieged 
as  a  consequence,  by  persons  near  and  from  a  dis- 
tance ;  some  to  purchase  yarn,  others  desirous  of 
learning  something  of  the  wonderful  new  wheel. 
All  sorts  of  stratagems  were  used  to  obtain  ad- 
mission to  the  house ;  and  when  this  was  denied 
many  climbed  up  to  the  windows  outside,  by  the 
aid  of  harrows  and  ladders,  to  look  in  at  the  ma- 
chinery. 

A  screen  was  erected  to  defeat  this  espionage ; 
but  that  was  not  always  successful.  One  man  is 
said  to  have  ensconced  himself  for  some  days  in 
the  cock-loft,  watching  Samuel  at  work  through  a 
gimlet-hole  pierced  through  the  ceiling. 

Under  these  circumstances  it  seemed  impossible 
to  retain  the  secret  of  his  machine.  In  one  of  his 
papers  he  refers  to  this  period :  "  During  this  time 
I  mai-ried,   and   commenced   spinner   altogether. 


Samuel  Crompton  inventing  his  celebrated  Mule. 


Piige  246- 


SAMUEL   CROMPTON.  24:7 

But  a  few  months  reduced  me  to  the  cruel  neces- 
sity either  of  destroying  my  machine  altogether, 
or  giving  it  up  to  the  public.  To  destroy  it  I 
could  not  think  of;  to  give  up  that  for  which  I 
had  labored  so  long  was  cruel.  I  had  no  j^atent, 
nor  the  means  of  purchasing  one.  In  preference 
to  destroying,  I  gave  it  to  the  public."  He 
trusted  to  the  manufacturers  to  remunerate  him  ; 
and  they  made,  indeed,  a  sort  of  one-sided  bargain 
with  him.  The  agreement  was  thus  drawn  up  : 
"  We  whose  names  are  hereunto  subscribed,  have 
agreed  to  give,  and  do  hereby  promise  to  pay 
unto,  Samuel  Crompton,  at  the  Hall-in-the-Wood, 
near  Bolton,  the  several  sums  opposite  to  our 
names,  as  a  reward  for  his  improvement  in  spin- 
ning. Several  of  the  principal  tradesmen  in  Man- 
chester, Bolton,  &c.,  having  seen  his  new  machine, 
approve  of  it,  and  are  of  opinion  that  it  would  be 
of  the  greatest  public  utility  to  make  it  generally 
known,  to  which  end  a  contribution  is  desired 
from  every  well-wisher  of  trade."  According  to 
one  statement  Samuel  derived  $250  for  giving  up 
his  "Mule;"  while  another  authority  sets  the 
amount  at  $500.  Crompton  said  himself:  "  I  re- 
ceived as  much  by  way  of  subscription  as  built 
me  a  new  machine  with  only  four  spindles  more 
than  the  one  I  had  given  up ;  the  old  one  having 
forty-eight,  the  new  one  fifty-two  spindles."  How 
miserable  this  result,  when  the  advantage  rendered 
is  taken  into  account ! 
But  more  shameful  still — even  those  parties  that 


248  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

had  promised  a  wretched  dolement,  when  the 
"  Mule"  had  left  Crompton's  hands,  sought  by  any 
or  every  means  to  evade  the  payment.  He  wrote : 
"  At  last  I  consented,  in  hoi3e  of  a  generous  and 
liberal  subscription.  The  consequence  was,  that 
from  many  subscribers,  who  would  not  pay  the 
sum  they  had  set  opposite  their  names  when  I  ap 
plied  to  them  for  it,  I  got  nothing  but  abusive 
language,  given  to  me  to  drive  me  from  them, 
which  was  easily  done^  for  I  never  till  then  could 
think  it  possible  that  any  man  (in  such  situations 
of  life  and  circumstances)  could  pretend  one  thing 
and  act  the  direct  opposite.  I  then  found  it  was 
possible,  having  had  proof  positive."  This  dis- 
graceful conduct  on  the  part  of  the  manufactur- 
ers tended  to  sour  the  temper  of  Samuel  for  the 
remainder  of  his  days. 

Some  time  before  the  year  1785,  Crompton  re- 
moved from  the  old  Hall  to  the  firm-house  at  Old- 
hams,  about  two  miles  from  Bolton.  His  new 
"Mule"  was  erected  in  the  upper  story,  and,  to 
prevent  the  crowds,  who  flocked  to  see  the  new 
wheels,  gaining  admission  to  the  apartment, 
Samuel  contrived  a  secret  fastening  for  the  door. 
One  of  the  visitors  was  no  less  a  person  than  the 
first  Sir  Robert  Peel,  then  a  member  of  the  firm 
of  Peel,  Ainsworth  and  Co.,  Bolton.  On  the  first 
visit  he  found  Crompton  absent,  when  he  chatted 
with  his  wife,  and  presented  his  son  George  with 
half  a  guinea.  On  Mrs.  Crompton  going  into  her 
dairy  for  a  bowl  of  milk  for  her  guest,  Mr.  Peel 


SAMUEL  cko:mpton.  249 

took  the  opportunity  to  ask  the  boy  where  his 
father  worked.  He  was  just  pointing  out  the 
secret  contrivance  for  fastening  the  door  latch, 
when  his  mother  returned  and  warned  him  by  a 
look  that  he  was  doing  wrong.  It  is  creditable  to 
the  Peel  fiimily  to  know  that  old  Mr.  Peel's  visit 
was  made  with  the  intention  of  inducing  Mr. 
Crompton  to  accept  a  lucrative  situation  in  his 
employ,  and  subsequently  a  partnership  with  his 
concern. 

Samuel  saw  fit  to  decline  both  these  offers. 
Doubtless,  had  he  acceded  to  the  overture,  he 
would  have  been  saved  from  much  after-sorrow ; 
but  he  had  been  disappointed  once,  and  his  faith 
in  promises  was  considerably  lessened.  He  con- 
tinued, therefore,  in  his  own  loft,  hoping  at  least 
to  secure  as  much  success  as  his  neighbors  ;  but  in 
this  he  was  doomed  to  be  disappointed.  No 
sooner  did  he  teach  any  new  hands  the  use  of  his 
machines  than  they  were  bribed  to  leave  him  by 
some  of  the  manufacturers.  Crompton  thus  bit- 
terly records  this  additional  injustice:  "I  pushed 
on,  intending  to  have  a  good  share  in  the  spinning 
line,  yet  I  found  there  was  an  evil  which  I  had  not 
foreseen,  and  of  much  greater  magnitude  than 
giving  up  the  machine,  viz.,  that  I  must  always  be 
teaching  green  hands,  employ  none,  or  quit  the 
country  ;  it  being  believed  that  if  I  taught  them 
they  knew  their  business  well.  So  that  for  years 
I  had  no  choice  left  but  to  give  up  spinning,  or 
quit   my   native   land.      I  cut  up   my  spinnmg 


250 


FAMOUS    BOYS. 


machine  for  other  purposes^  On  another  occa- 
sion, feeling  most  acutely  the  injustice  which  was 
done  him,  he  seized  his  axe  and  broke  his  carding 
machine  in  pieces,  saying,  "  They  shall  not  have 
this  too."  The  axe  used  in  this  work  of  almost 
justifiable  destruction  is  preserved  as  a  relic  at  the 
present  time." 

In  1800,  however,  some  gentlemen  of  Manches- 
ter got  up  a  subscription  for  Crompton,  under  the 
impression  that  he  had  been  hardly  used.  Before 
it  was  completed  the  country  was  suffering  from 
the  high  price  of  food,  owing  to  the  failure  of  the 
crops.  This  almost  destroyed  the  scheme.  Be- 
tween four  and  five  hundred  pounds  Avas  all  that 
was  handed  over  to  enable  Samuel  to  increase  his 
little  manufacturing  establishment. 

It  must  not  be  assumed  that  his  inventive 
talents  were  exclusively  devoted  to  the  invention 
of  manufacturing  machinery.  About  the  year 
1 803  he  built  an  organ  in  his  house  in  King  Street, 
Bolton,  where  he  had  removed.  It  was  afterward 
bought  for  the  use  of  the  New  Jerusalem  Church. 
At  this  church  Crompton  took  the  entire  charge 
of  conducting  the  singing.  There  are  several 
music  books  preserved  that  contain  tunes  composed 
by  him,  and  "pricked"  by  his  own  hand.  The 
choir  thought  so  highly  of  his  services  that  they 
presented  him  with  a  silver  cup  upon  which  his 
portrait  was  engraved  ;  he  afterward  made  a 
pentagraph,  by  which  he  added  the  profiles  of  all 
the  members  of  the  choir. 


SAMTJEL   CKOMPTON.  251 

In  1811  Samuel  commenced  collecting  informa- 
tion of  the  results  of  his  invention.  He  found, 
after  visiting  the  manufacturing  districts  of  Eng- 
land, Scotland,  and  Ireland,  that  there  were  be- 
tween four  and  five  millions  of  mule  spindles  in 
use ;  two-thirds  of  the  steam  power  then  employed 
in  cotton  spinning  was  applied  to  turn  the  mules. 
The  value  of  the  buildings  and  machinery  em- 
ployed in  Samuel's  invention  was  computed  at  be- 
tween three  and  four  millions  sterling ;  and,  as  a 
proof  that  the  invention  had  not  thrown  hands  out 
of  employ,  it  was  found  that  70,000  persons  were 
directly  engaged  upon  the  mules,  and  160,000 
more  in  weaving  the  yarn  thus  spun.  It  was  as- 
certained that  the  aggregate  number  of  persons 
depending  upon  Crompton's  invention  was  660,000 ! 
This  was  in  1811 :  what  must  the  number  be  in 
18G0?  When  Samuel  was  in  Scotland,  the  Glas- 
gow manufacturers  were  desirous  of  giving  him  a 
l^ublic  dinner:  their  intention  was  frustrated  by 
his  modesty.  When  the  time  came,  to  use  his 
own  words:  "rather  than  'face  up,'  I  first  hid 
myself,  and  then  fairly  bolted  from  the  city.' 

The  result  of  the  statistics  was  embodied  in  a 
petition  to  Parliament ;  a  committee  was  empow- 
ered to  examine  the  allegations  of  the  petition, 
which  reported  favorably  after  examining  various 
witnesses  and  documents.  The  report  to  the 
House  concluded  thus :  "  Your  committee  beg 
leave  to  observe,  that  the  petitioner  appears  to 
them  to  be  highly  deserving  of  a  national  reward." 


252  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

Samuel  was  m  tlie  lobby  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons, on  the  11th  of  May,  conversing  with  Sir 
Robert  Peel  and  Mr.  Blackburn  on  the  subject, 
when  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  Mr.  Per- 
ceval, joined  them.  His  first  words  were — "You 
will  be  glad  to  know  that  we  mean  to  propose 
twenty  thousand  pounds  for  Crompton ;  do  you 
think  that  will  be  satisfactory  ?"  Samuel  did  not 
hear  the  reply,  as,  from  motives  of  delicacy,  he 
walked  away.  In  a  moment  after,  before  he  had 
left  the  lobby,  he  heard  a  rush  of  people,  and  cries 
that  Mr.  Perceval  had  been  shot.  The  assassin, 
Bellingham,  had  completed  his  deadly  purpose ;  in 
an  instant  England  had  lost  a  faithful  servant,  and 
Samuel  a  valuable  friend.  On  the  24th  of  June, 
the  House  voted  him  five  thousand  pounds — a 
large  sum,  unquestionably,  and  yet,  taken  into 
consideration  with  the  benefits  the  nation  had  de- 
rived from  the  invention  of  the  mule,  it  was  a 
miserable  pittance.  Crompton  had  proved  before 
the  committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  that  he 
had  contributed  £300,000  per  annum  (about 
$1,500,000,)  to  the  revenue,  solely  from  duty  on 
cotton  wool  imported  into  the  country  to  be  spun 
on  his  machine!  Mr.  M'Culloch  designated  the 
grant  to  Samuel  *'  as  a  pittance  hardly  adequate  to 
defray  the  expenses  of  the  application."  In  the 
sessions  of  1826  or  1827,  a  second  application  was 
made  to  Parliament,  but  was  unsuccessful  in  pro- 
curing another  grant.  So  far  as  Samuel  was  in- 
dividually concerned,  this  was  not  of  much  conse- 


SAMUEL    CKOMPTOK.  253 

qiience,  as  he  died  in  his  house  in  King  Street, 
Bolton,  on  the  26th  of  June,  1827,  in  his  seventy- 
first  year.  In  the  language  of  his  biographer, 
"  Let  us  hope  that  his  memory  may  yet  be  re- 
vived, and  his  name  worthily  honored,  not  only  in 
his  native  parish,  but  reflected  thence  over  the 
Avorld,  which  his  invention  has  done  so  much  to 
civilize ;  and  that  history  may  yet  inscribe  the 
neglected  name  of  Samuel  Crompton  on  one  of 
the  brightest  pages  of  her  annals." 


•ihOMAS  ciialmeks. 

Thomas  Chalmers  was  born  at  Anstruther,  a 
town  on  the  coast  of  Fifeshire,  Scotland,  on  the 
lYth  of  March,  1V80.  During  his  school-boy  days 
he  exhibited  Uttle  or  nothing  of  those  qualities  by 
the  exercise  of  which  he  afterward  rose  to  dis- 
tinction. 

"By  those  of  his  school-fellows,  few  now  in 
number,  who  survive,  Dr.  Chalmers  is  remembered 
as  one  of  the  idlest,  strongest,  merriest,  and  most 
generous-hearted  boys  in  Anstruther  school.  Little 
time  or  attention  would  have  been  required  from 
him  to  prepare  his  daily  lessons,  so  as  to  meet  the 
ordinary  demands  of  the  school-room ;  for  when 
he  did  set  himself  to  learn,  not  one  of  all  his 
school-fellows  could  do  it  at  once  so  quickly  and 
so  well.  When  the  time  came,  however,  for  say- 
ing them,  the  lessons  were  often  found  scarcely 
half-learned — sometimes  not  learned  at  all.  The 
punishment  inflicted  in  such  cases  was  to  send  the 
culprit  into  the  coal-hole,  to  remain  there  in  soli- 
tude till  the  neglected  duty  was  discharged.  If 
many  of  the  boys  could  boast  over  Thomas  Chal- 
mns  that  Ihey  were  seldom er  in  the  place  of  { un- 


.  THOMAS   CHALMEKS.  255 

ishment,  none  could  say  that  they  got  more  quickly 
out  of  it.  Joyous,  vigorous,  and  humorous,  he 
took  his  part  in  all  the  games  of  the  playground 
— ever  ready  to  lead  or  to  follow,  when  school-boy 
expeditions  were  planned  and  executed ;  and 
wherever  for  fun  or  for  frolic  any  little  group  of 
the  merry-hearted  was  gathered,  his  full,  rich 
laugh  might  be  heard  rising  amid  their  shouts  of 
glee." 

In  1V91  he  became  a  student  in  the  United  Col- 
lege of  St.  Andrews.  His  preliminary  education, 
however,  both  in  English  and  Latin,  was  so  defec- 
tive, that  he  could  not  obtain  any  great  profit  from 
the  learned  prelections  of  the  professors  whom  it 
was  his  duty  to  attend.  This  deficiency  in  his 
early  education,  so  far  as  it  referred  to  classical 
learning,  was  never,  save  in  a  sHght  degree,  re- 
medied ;  for,  although  he  afterward  attained  con- 
siderable mathematical  skill,  he  could  never  be 
called  a  Latin  or  a  Greek  scholar.  His  two  first 
sessions  at  the  university  seem  to  have  been 
spent  without  any  serious  eflbrts  to  improve  him- 
self But  what  could  be  expected  from  a  boy  of 
twelve  or  thirteen  ? 

'*  He  was  at  that  time,"  says  one  of  his  earliest 
companions,  "  very  young,  and  volatile,  and  boyish, 
and  idle  in  his  habits,  and  like  the  rest  of  us  in 
those  days,  but  ill  prepared  by  previous  education 
for  reaping  the  full  benefit  of  a  college  course.  I 
think  that  during  the  first  two  sessions  a  great 
part  of  his  time  must  have  been  occuj^ied  (as  mine 


256  FAMOUS    BOYS.      . 

was)  in  boyish  amxisemeiits,  such  as  golf,  football, 
and  particularly  handball,  in  which  latter  he  was 
remarkably  expert,  owing  to  his  being  left-handed. 
I  remember  that  he  made  no  distinguished  pro- 
gress in  his  education  during  these  two  sessions." 

In  1795  he  was  enrolled  as  a  Student  of  Divi- 
nity. The  love  of  boyish  amusements,  which,  in 
common  with  other  lads  of  his  age,  he  had  hereto- 
fore exhibited,  had  already  given  way  before  the 
rapid  development  of  his  intellectual  powers,  and 
he  had  successfully  devoted  himself,  under  the 
powerful  impulse,  to  the  study  of  mathematics. 
The  mental  vigor  thus  awakened  into  action,  he 
now  applied  to  the  study  of  divinity.  His  earliest 
conceptions  on  this  subject,  however,  were  con- 
fined to  such  views  of  the  Deity  as  are  suggested 
by  the  study  of  Natural  Theology.  But  those 
conceptions  were  extremely  vivid  and  intense. 
"  I  remember,"  he  himself  said,  "  when  a  student 
of  divinity,  and  long  ere  I  could  relish  evangeli- 
cal sentiment,  I  spent  nearly  a  twelvemonth  in  a 
sort  of  mental  elysium,  and  the  one  idea  which 
ministered  to  my  soul  all  its  rapture  was  the  mag- 
nificence of  the  Godhead,  and  the  universal  sub- 
ordination of  all  things  to  the  one  great  purpose 
for  which  He  evolved  and  was  supporting  creation. 
I  should  like  to  be  so  inspired  over  again,  but  with 
such  a  view  of  the  Deity  as  coalesced  and  was  in 
harmony  with  the  doctrine  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment." 

His   progress    at   that    period   was   extremely 


THOMAS   CHALMERS.  267 

rapid ;  and  although  when  he  first  entered  the 
university  his  knowledge  of  the  rudiments  even 
of  English  composition  was  very  imperfect,  he 
now,  by  dint  of  perseverance,  mastered  every  dif- 
ficulty, and  acquired  a  great  command  over  the 
language.  His  public  duties  showed  the  benefit 
he  thus  secured,  inasmuch  as  he  was  able  to  em- 
ploy a  suitable  vehicle  for  those  vivid  conceptions 
which  it  was  the  character  of  his  intellect  to  form. 
"  I  remember  still,"  says  one  of  his  friends,  "  after 
the  lapse  of  fifty-two  years,  the  powerful  impres- 
sion made  by  his  prayers  in  the  Public  Hall,  to 
which  the  people  of  St.  Andrews  flocked  when 
they  knew  that  Chalmers  was  to  pray,  v  The 
wonderful  flow  of  eloquent,  vivid,  ardent  descrip- 
tion of  the  attributes  and  works  of  God,  and  still 
more,  perhaps,  the  astonishing  harrowing  delinea- 
tion of  the  miseries,  the  horrid  cruelties,  immo- 
ralities, and  abominations  inseparable  from  war, 
which  always  came  in  more  or  less  in  connection 
with  the  bloody  warfare  in  which  we  were  en- 
gaged with  France,  called  forth  the  wonderment 
of  the  hearers.  He  was  then  only  sixteen  years 
of  age,  yet  he  showed  a  taste  and  capacity  for 
composition  of  the  most  glowing  and  eloquent 
kind.  Even  then,  his  style  was  very  much  the 
same  as  at  the  period  when  he  attracted  so  much 
notice,  and  made  such  powerful  impression  in  the 
pulpit  and  by  the  press." 

After  completing  the  course  of  study  prescribed 
by  the  Church  of  Scotland,  Chalmers   obtained 
17 


25^ 


FAMOUS   BOYS. 


license  as  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel  on  the  31st 
of  July,  1 799.  About  a  month  afterwrird  he  made 
his  first  aopearance  as  a  preacher  in  a  chapel  in 
Wigan,  and  on  the  Sunday  following  he  delivered 
the  same  discourse  in  Liverpool.  On  these  occa- 
sions he  was  accompanied  by  his  brother  James, 
who,  in  a  letter  referring  to  the  occasion,  thus  ex- 
presses himself: — "  His  mode  of  delivery  is  ex- 
pressive, his  language  beautiful,  and  his  arguments 
very  forcible  and  strong.  His  sermon  contained  a 
due  mixture  of  the  doctrinal  and  practical  parts  of 
religion,;  but  I  think  it  inclined  most  to  the  latter. 
The  subject,  however,  required  it.  It  is  the  opinion 
of  those  who  pretend  to  be  judges,  that  he  will 
shine  in  the  pulpit,  but  as  yet  he  is  rather  awkward 
in  his  appearance.  In  October,  the  same  year,  he 
established  himself  in  the  house  of  a  relative  in 
Edinburgh,  and  pursued  with  great  ardor  his  fix- 
vorite  studies  of  mathematics  and  philosophy.  In 
July,  1801,  however,  he  became  assistant  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Elliott,  minister  of  Cavers,  but  in  No- 
vember in  the  same  year  was  elected  by  the  Prin- 
cipal and  Professors  of  the  University  of  St.  An- 
drews to  the  living  of  Kilmany.  At  the  same 
period  he  was  appointed  assistant  to  the  Professor 
of  Mathematics  in  the  University  of  St.  Andrews. 
On  entering  upon  his  parochial  charge  at  Kil- 
many, Chalmers  resolved,  if  possible,  to  retain  the 
Mathematical  Assistantship  at  St.  Andrews,  hold- 
ing out,  as  it  did,  a  prospect  of  distinction  in  a  de- 
partment of  learning  to  which  he  was  devoted.   He 


THOMAS    CHALMERS.  250 

found  himself,  however,  summarily  dismissed  on 
the  charge  of  inefficiency  as  a  teacher.  This  treat- 
ment, to  one  of  his  ardent  temperament,  must  have 
been  extremely  irritating;  and  in  order  to  dis- 
prove the  accusation,  he  opened  classes  in  St.  An- 
drews for  mathematics  and  chemistry,  and  met, 
notwithstanding  considerable  opposition,  a  great 
measure  of  success.  The  chemical  lectures  he  af- 
terward delivered  in  his  own  parish  and  at  Cupar. 
He  remained  about  eleven  years  at  Kilmany,  en- 
gaging with  characteristic  energy  in  his  pastoral 
duties,  and  occupying  himself  in  a  variety  of  lite- 
rary undertakings.  In  1814,  he  was  chosen  min- 
ister of  the  Tron  Church,  Glasgow.  Here  he  had 
a  wide  field  on  which  to  carry  out  all  his  enter- 
prises of  Christian  benevolence.  And  he  speedily 
rose  to  an  unparalleled  degree  of  popularity  in  con- 
sequence of  the  extraordinary  eloquence  and  power 
which  in  his  public  services  he  displayed.  His 
"Astronomical  Discourses"  were  at  this  time  de- 
livered, and  excited  universal  admiration.  He 
had  at  this  period  an  unquestionable  superiority 
over  all  other  preachers ;  and  that,  too,  although 
his  defects  were  such  as  rhetoricians  consider  in- 
compatible with  oratorical  excellence.  His  man- 
ner was  awkward,  his  voice  unmusical,  his  pronun- 
ciation barbarous  in  the  extreme;  yet  such  was 
the  intellectual  and  moral  energy — such  the  earn- 
estness and  profound  sincerity  that  pervaded  all 
he  uttered,  that  any  defect  was  more  than  coun- 
terbalanced. 


260  FAI^IOUS   BOYS. 

In  1818  Dr.  Chalmers  was  elected  minister  of 
St.  John's,  in  Glasgow.  This  church,  which  had 
been  recently  built,  was  considerably  larger  than 
the  Tron  Church,  and  the  parish  in  which  it  was 
placed  afforded  immense  scope  for  his  labors.  In 
this  sphere  of  exertion  he  continued  several  years, 
carrying  out,  with  his  usual  energy  and  perseve- 
rance, a  variety  of  plans  of  usefulness,  devoting  al- 
most his  whole  attention  to  the  claims  of  the  hum- 
bler classes,  which  in  a  densely-peopled  city  are 
too  often  neglected. 

In  1823  he  was  chosen  Professor  of  Moral  Philo- 
sophy in  the  University  of  St.  Andrews.  After 
discharging  the  duties  of  his  professorship  at  St. 
Andrews  for  four  years,  he  was  appointed  to  the 
Chair  of  Divinity  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh, 
and  commenced  his  duties  in  November,  1828. 

Without  any  attempt  to  present  the  reader  with 
the  numerous  particulars  which  unite  to  make  up 
his  history  from  the  period  of  his  appointment  as 
Professor  of  Divinity,  we  shall  present  them  with 
a  passage  from  the  writings  of  Mr.  Gilfillan :  "  We 
linger  as  we  trace  over  in  thought  the  leading  in- 
cidents of  his  well-known  story.  We  see  the  big- 
headed,  warm-hearted,  burly  boy,  playing  upon  the 
beach  at  Anstruther,  and  seeming  like  a  gleam  of 
early  sunshine  upon  that  coldest  of  all  coasts.  We 
follow  him,  as  he  strides  along  with  large,  hopeful, 
awkward  steps  to  the  gate  of  St.  Andrews.  We 
see  him,  a  second  Dominie  Sampson,  in  his  tutor's 
garret  at  Arbroath,  in  the  midst  of  a  proud  and 


THOMAS    CHALMERS.  261 

pompous  ftimily — liimself  as  proud,  though  not  so 
pompous  as  they.  We  follow  him  next  to  the 
peaceful  manse  of  Kilmany,  standing  amid  its  green 
woods  and  hills,  in  a  very  nook  of  the  land,  whence 
he  emerges,  now  to  St.  Andrews,  to  battle  with 
the  stolid  and  slow-moving  professors  of  that  day ; 
now  to  Dundee,  to  buy  materials  for  chemical  re- 
search (on  one  occasion  setting  himself  on  fire  with 
some  combustible  substance,  and  requiring  to  run 
to  a  farmhouse  to  get  himself  put  out !) ;  now  to 
the  woods  and  hills  around  to  botanise  ;  and  now 
to  Edinburgh  to  attend  the  General  Assembly,  and 
give  earnest  of  those  great  oratorical  powers  which 
were  afterward  to  astonish  the  Church  and  the 
world.  With  solemn  awe  we  stand  by  his  bedside 
during  that  long,  mysterious  illness,  which  brought 
him  to  himself,  and  taught  him  that  religion  was  a 
reality,  as  profound  as  sin,  sickness,  and  death.  We 
mark  him,  then,  rising  up  from  his  couch,  like  an 
eagle  newly  bathed — like  a  giant  refreshed — and 
commencing  that  course  of  evangelical  teaching 
and  action  only  to  be  terminated  in  the  grave.  We 
pursue  him  to  Glasgow,  and  see  him  sitting  down 
in  a  plain  house  in  Sauchiehall  Road,  and  proceed- 
ing to  write  sermons  which  are  to  strike  that  city 
like  a  planet,  and  make  him  the  real  king  of  the 
West.  We  mark  him,  next,  somewhat  worn  and 
wearied,  returning  to  his  alma  mater^  to  resume 
his  old  games  of  golf  on  the  Links,  his  old  baths  in 
the  Bay,  and  to  give  an  impetus,  which  has  never 
yet  entirely   subsided,  to  that  grass-grown  city  of 


or^'>, 


FAMOUS   EOYS. 


Rutherford  and  Halyburton.  ISText  we  see  him 
bursting  hke  a  shell  this  narrow  confine,  and  soar- 
ing away  to  '  stately  Edinburgh,  throned  on  crags,' 
to  become  there  a  principality  and  a  power  among 
many,  and  to  give  stimulus  and  inspiration  to  hosts 
of  young  aspirants.  What  divine  of  the  age,  on 
the  whole,  can  we  name  with  Chalmers  ?  Horsley 
was,  perhaps,  an  abler  man,  but  where  the  moral 
grandeur  ?  Hall  had  the  moral  grandeur,  and  a 
far  more  cultivated  mind ;  Foster  had  a  sterner, 
loftier,  and  richer  genius  ;  but  where,  in  either,  the 
seraphic  ardor,  activity,  and  energy  of  Christian 
character  possessed  by  Chalmers  ?  Irving,  as  an 
orator,  had  more  artistic  skill,  and,  at  the  same 
time,  his  blood  was  warm  with  a  more  volcanic 
and  poetic  fire ;  but  he  was  only  a  brilliant  frag- 
ment, not  a  whole^he  was  a  meteor  to  a  star — a 
comet  to  a  sun — a  Vesuvius,  peaked,  blue,  crowned 
with  fire,  to  a  domed  Mont  Blanc.  Chalmers 
stood  alone ;  and  centuries  may  elapse  ere  the 
church  shall  see — and  when  did  she  ever  more 
need  to  see  ? — another  such  spirit  as  he  ?" 

Dr.  Chalmers  died  on  the  night  of  the  30th  May, 
1 847.  He  had  recently  returned  from  London,  and 
apparently  in  his  usual  good  health.  "  During  the 
whole  of  the  evening,  as  if  he  had  kept  his  bright- 
est smiles  and  fondest  utterances  to  the  last,  and 
for  his  own,  he  was  peculiarly  bland  and  benignant. 
'  I  had  seen  him  frequently,'  says  Mr.  Gemmel,  '  at 
Fairlie,  and  in  his  most  happy  moods,  but  I  never 
saw  him  happier.     Christian  benevolence  beamed 


THOMAS   CHALMERS.  263 

from  his  countenance,  sparkled  in  his  eye,  and 
played  upon  his  lips.'  Immediately  after  prayers 
he  withdrew,  and  bidding  his  family  remember 
that  they  must  be  early  to-morrow,  he  waved  his 
hand,  saying,  '  A  general  good-night.'  The  house- 
keeper, who  had  been  long  in  the  family,  knocked 
next  morning  at  the  door  of  Dr.  Chalmers'  room, 
but  received  no  answer.  Concluding  that  he  was 
asleep,  and  unwilling  to  disturb  him,  she  waited 
till  another  party  called  with  a  second  message ; 
she  then  entered  the  room — it  was  in  darkness ; 
she  spoke,  but  there  was  no  response.  At  last  she 
threw  open  the  window-shutters,  and  drew  aside 
the  curtains  of  the  bed.  He  sat  there,  half  erect, 
his  head  reclining  gently  on  the  pillow ;  the  ex- 
pression of  his  countenance  that  of  fixed  and  ma- 
jestic repose.  She  took  his  hand — she  touched 
his  brow ;  he  had  been  dead  for  hours :  very 
shortly  after  that  parting  salute  to  his  family,  he 
had  entered  the  eternal  world.  It  must  have  been 
wholly  without  pain  or  conflict.  The  expression 
of  the  face,  undisturbed  by  a  single  trace  of  suffer- 
ing, the  position  of  the  body  so  easy  that  the  least 
struggle  would  have  disturbed  it,  the  very  posture 
of  arms  and  hands  and  fingers  known  to  his  family 
as  that  into  which  they  fell  naturally  in  the  mo- 
ments of  entii'e  repose — conspired  to  show,  that, 
saved  all  strife  with  the  last  enemy,  his  spirit  had 
passed  to  its  place  of  blessedness  and  glory  in  the 
heavens." 


JACQUES  LAFFITTE, 

OR   A   rORTITNE   IN   A   PIN. 

In  the  year  1788,  a  young  man,  about  the  age 
of  twenty-one,  arrived  in  Paris.  He  had  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  countryman,  and  was  evidently  poor. 
Having  traveled  all  night,  he  looked  wan  and 
jaded.  The  truth  is,  he  had  got  no  breakfast,  and 
one  would  have  thought  that  a  supply  of  meat 
would  have  been  his  first  object  on  his  arrival; 
but  he  had  not  a  single  sou  to  purchase  for  him- 
self a  dinner,  having  arrived  penniless,  with  noth- 
ing to  trust  to  but  God,  and  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  a  celebrated  banker.  As  soon  as  might  be, 
he  sought  out,  after  many  inquiries,  the  residence 
of  this  gentleman,  and  we  may  very  easily  sup- 
pose that  his  heart  beat  pretty  loudly  when  he 
presented  his  letter  to  the  great  man,  for  upon 
the  issue  of  that  alone  all  his  hopes  of  life  de- 
pended. Then  how  he  scanned  the  face  of  the 
banker  as  the  eye  of  the  latter  glided  swiftly  and 
carelessly  along  the  lines  till  he  came  to  the  ter- 
mination. The  letter  was  deliberately  folded  up, 
and  out  came  the  answer :  that  he  had  already  four 


JACQUES   LAFFITTE.  265 

or  five  clerks  in  his  office  too  many,  and  that  he 
had  no  room  for  a  new  one. 

The  young  man  received  this  answer  in  dejected 
silence,  and  departed — to  go  he  knew  not  whither, 
but  not,  probably  without  leaving  some  impression 
on  the  mind  of  the  banker,  whose  eye  followed 
him  as  he  passed  through  the  court-yard  of  the 
hotel.  Except  for  this  lingering  look,  which, 
after  all,  might  have  been  the  result  of  idleness  or 
vacuity,  the  simple  scene  was  terminated ;  but 
that  look,  whatever  might  have  been  its  object, 
was  suddenly  changed  into  attention  as  he  saw 
the  discarded  youth  stoop  and  pick  up  a  small 
object  from  the  ground,  and  stick  it  into  the 
sleeve  of  his  coat.  It  must  be  a  pin.  What  then? 
Could  any  thing  be  more  common  or  less  worthy 
of  observation  than  for  a  poor  young  man  to  pick 
up  a  pin  ?  But  the  banker  took  another  view  of 
the  apparently  trifling  incident — no  other,  indeed, 
than  that  it  was  one  of  those  instinctive  signs 
which  indicate  original  tendencies  of  disposition 
and  character ;  in  short,  he  argued  from  it  a  love 
of  care  and  economy.  He  called  the  young  man 
back,  and  engaged  him  to  serve  in  a  humble  capa- 
city in  his  large  banking  establishment. 

The  young  man  was  Jacques  Laffitte,  the  son  of 
a  poor  carpenter  in  Bayonne,  who  had  a  family 
of  ten  children  to  support  by  his  industry.  The 
banker  was  Monsieur  Perregeaux,  one  of  the  ablest 
financiers  and  richest  citizens  of  Paris.  The  French 
people  love  to   recount  this  little  story,  and  no 


FAMOUS   BOYS. 

doubt  it  deserves  to  be  told  again  and  again  ;  but 
we  are  to  remember  at  the  same  time  that  Jacques 
Laffitte,  in  spite  of  his  habihments,  carried  a  good 
letter  of  introduction  from  Nature,  who  has  small 
regard  to  the  distinctions  of  rank  or  caste.  Of  a 
good  figure,  with  a  handsome  countenance,  an  air 
of  independence  and  freedom  which  even  his  hope- 
less abjectness  on  that  eventful  day  could  not 
altogether  suppress,  a  vivid  expression  and  a  frank 
presentation,  Jacques  was  calculated  to  leave  an 
impression  on  such  a  man  as  Perregeaux  sufficient 
to  produce  that  attention  which  detected  the  little 
act  of  economy.  Nor  was  it  long  ere  the  master 
observed  in  the  pupil  the  real  gifts  which  were 
to  justify  his  appointment,  and  the  consciousness 
of  which  probably  prompted  the  original  applica- 
tion for  employment  of  this  peculiar  kind — for  we 
may  now  mention  that  Jacques  Laffitte  had  no 
education  except  what  he  had  picked  up  himself, 
and  all  he  had  done  by  way  of  apprenticeship  in 
his  native  place,  was  acting  as  errand  boy  in  the 
office  of  a  notary.  It  was  no  mere  slavish  desire 
to  become  rich  for  the  sake  of  riches  that  formed 
the  spring  of  action  in  the  mind  of  the  young 
aspirant,  nor  could  he  have  foreseen  the  calls  that 
would  be  made  on  any  public  spirit  or  philanthroi^y 
he  might  possess ;  he  simply  felt  that  he  was  gifted 
with  powers  of  a  kind  and  to  an  extent  known 
only  to  himself,  and  this  consciousness  brought  out 
the  practical  effects. 
Installed  in  his  new  office,  Jacques,  as  we  have 


JACQT3ES    LAFFITTE.  267 

said,  soon  discovered  to  his  master  that  he  was 
sonietiiing  more  than  one  who  could  save  by  atten- 
tion to  such  small  things  as  pins,  or  rather  that  his 
real  powers  were  those  generally  considered, 
though  often  untruly,  as  being  unfavorable  to  rigid 
economy.  To  his  recommendation  of  freedom  and 
frankness  of  manner,  he  joined  a  thorough  applica- 
tion to  what  he  had  to  do,  and  this  application  was 
always  under  the  rule  of  a  method,  which,  again, 
was  the  result,  if  not  the  expression,  of  a  habit  of 
governing  his  thoughts.  He  possessed,  also,  that 
gift  not  always  combined  with  self-reliance — a 
keen  and  ready  aptitude  to  catch  and  apply  the 
profitable  ideas  of  others,  and  thus  Perregeaux 
found  in  him  not  only  a  good  methodical  thinker, 
but  also  an  excellent  worker  out  of  his  own  schemes. 
Jacques  was  very  soon  raised  to  the  charge  of 
the  bank  books.  Every  day  he  acquired  more  and 
more  the  confidence  of  his  master,  as  every  day 
brought  out  more  and  more  his  integrity  and 
ability.  From  the  books  he  was  in  due  time  raised 
to  the  responsible  ofiice  of  cashier.  By  and  by 
he  was  assumed  as  a  partner,  and,  at  length,  when 
Perregeaux  died,  he  was  left  as  his  executor  and 
successor.  This  act  was  the  more  honorable  to 
him,  that  the  old  banker  left  a  son,  whose  only 
duty  or  rather  privilege  it  was  to  draw  a  revenue 
from  the  house  of  Laftitte  &  Co.,  the  entire  charge 
of  which  devolved  on  the  proved  man  who  owed 
his  present  position  in  life  to  a  very  small  begin- 
ning— the  picking  up  of  a  pin. 


268  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

It  is  not  very  well  known  how  Perregeaux's 
bank  rode  through  the  terrible  storm  of  the  Re- 
volution, but  it  is  not  left  for  conjecture  that  from 
the  time  when  Laffitte  became  master  of  the  estab- 
lishment, he  continued  to  acquire  reputation  as  a 
skilful  financier.  In  1809  he  was  appointed  director 
of  the  Bank  of  France,  still  retaining  the  charge 
of  his  own  establishment.  A  few  years  later  he 
became  Judge  of  the  Tribunal  of  Commerce  of  the 
Seine,  and  subsequently  he  was  elected  to  the  high 
office  of  President  of  the  Chamber  of  Commerce. 
At  the  fall  of  the  empire  in  1814,  he  was  appoint- 
ed by  the  Provisional  Government,  Governor  of 
the  Bank  of  France,  on  which  last  occasion  he 
gave  one  of  those  noble  instances  of  his  generosity 
of  which  we  shall  learn  more,  by  refusing  to  ac- 
cept the  emoluments  attached  to  the  office,  amount- 
ing to  nearly  a  hundred  thousand  francs. 

Itj  is  at  this  point  of  his  history  that  we  are 
first  called  upon  to  notice  the  peculiar  and  high- 
minded  policy  by  which  the  conduct  of  this  extra- 
ordinary man  was  regulated.  He  had,  by  deep 
thought,  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  it  was  not 
only  possible,  but  necessary,  that  the  national 
banking  establishment  of  France  should  enjoy  an 
existence  and  subserve  a  management  altogether 
independent  of  changes  of  dynasty.  He  seems 
to  have  viewed  it  as  the  Capitol  by  which  the 
national  honor  and  the  public  safety  could  be 
preserved.  He  had  been  a  banker  amidst  the 
lawless  exactions  of  the  Revolution,  without  hav- 


JACQUES    LAFFITTE.  269 

ing  been  drawn  into  the  vortex  of  politics,  or 
having  suffered  from  the  conflicts  of  impassioned, 
if  not  insane  men.  He  had  held  the  office  of  Di- 
rector of  the  National  Bank  under  Napoleon  with- 
out succumbing  to  imperial  dictation,  and  the  con- 
fidence of  the  new  power  called  "  the  Provisional 
Government"  was  extended  to  him  simply  upon 
the  grounds  of  integrity  and  talent,  and  altogether 
independent  of  political  sentiments.  In  short,  it 
came  to  be  considered,  that  while  Jacques  Laffitte 
remained,  the  Bank  of  France  could  never  go 
down.  Nor  was  this  notion  without  something  to 
justify  it.  When  the  Allies  entered  Paris,  the 
entire  capital  of  the  public  treasury  was  seized  for 
a  contribution  of  war;  the  municipal  exchequer 
was  empty ;  the  bank  was  menaced ;  and  Laffitte, 
reduced  to  extremities,  saw  no  relief  but  in  a 
great  national  subscription.  We  may  guess  how 
low  the  public  spirit  had  declined  when  we  are 
told  that  Laffitte  himself  was  the  only  subscriber 
— not  a  name  followed  his  own. 

Due  efforts  were  in  the  meantime  made  to  keep 
up  the  credit  of  the  bank.  When  Napoleon  re- 
turned from  the  Island  of  Elba,  Louis  XVIII.  had 
recourse  to  the  governor  for  a  sum  of  many  mil- 
lions. We  have  no  account  of  the  manner  by 
which  this  demand  was  met,  but  met  it  was,  and 
that,  too,  without  any  effort  to  prevent  the  same 
fertile  financier  from  accommodating  the  needy 
Duke  of  Orleans  with  a  million  and  six  hundred 
thousand  francs. 


270  FAJiprS    BOYS. 

We  know  that  Laffitte  was  a  Liberal  in  a  very- 
extended  sense,  and  also  a  very  determined  and 
uncompromising  one ;  yet  he  contrived  to  retain 
the  confidence,  if  not  the  affection,  of  the  different 
powers  as  they  came  and  went. 

We  find  him  next  in  the  Chamber  of  Represen- 
tatives during  the  Hundred  Days ;  but  though  he 
abstained  from  all  active  part  in  the  deliberations, 
this  did  not  prevent  Napoleon  from  remitting  to 
him,  after  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  a  sum  of  five 
millions  in  gold,  which  Laffitte  could  easily  get 
passed  to  England  or  America  for  behoof  of  the 
exiled  monarch.  It  is  well  known  that  Kapoleon 
bequeathed  by  his  testament  the  interest  which 
had  accrued  upon  this  immense  sum  to  him  who 
had  been  the  means  of  preserving  it ;  but  it  is  not 
so  well  known  that  Laffitte  rejected  the  gift  upon 
the  ground  that  the  sum  was  not  placed  with  him 
upon  the  condition  of  bearing  interest. 

The  example  here  given  was  an  act  of  munifi- 
cence due  to  one  whom  he  had  served,  without, 
perhaps,  sharing  the  regret  of  the  nation  at  the 
fall  of  their  chief ;  but  he  was  again  to  be  called 
upon  by  the  Provisional  Government,  on  grounds 
of  public  interest.  On  the  entry  of  the  Allies 
after  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  the  remnant  of  the 
Imperial  army  refused  to  disband  until  they  were 
paid  their  arrears.  The  public  treasury  was  again 
empty,  and  the  Provisional  Government  had  no 
alternative  but  to  appeal  once  more  to  the  head  of 
the  Bank,  with  the  hinted  threat  of  an  enforced 


JACQUES    LAFFITTE.  271 

loan.  Laffitte  had  his  reasons  for  not  risking  a 
meeting  of  the  Council,  and  preferred  to  advance 
on  his  own  responsibility  no  less  a  sum  than  two 
millions.  Even  here  his  efforts  for  the  public 
safety  were  not  allowed  to  slumber  for  more  than 
a  few  days,  for  Blucher  immediately  followed  with 
a  demand  for  six  hundred  thousand  within  twenty- 
four  hours.  The  period  passed  ;  no  rich  Royalists 
came  to  the  rescue,  though  the  General  threatened 
to  fire  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  it  was  reserved  for 
Lafiitte  to  relieve  the  position  by  a  guarantee  for 
the  money,  which  was  raised  by  subscription. 

Amidst  these  fluctuating  acts  of  munificence — 
on  a  scale  almost  unprecedented — in  favor  of  one 
dynasty  and  of  another — one  monarch  who  was 
falling  or  one  who  was  rising — Lafiitte  never 
swerved  from  the  interests  of  his  country  or  his 
love  of  liberty.  Elected  Deputy  of  Paris  in  1816, 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  take  his  seat  on  the  benches 
of  the  Opposition,  yet  he  never  sought  the  tribune 
except  when  he  required  to  speak  on  his  favorite 
subject  of  finance,  and  such  was  the  confidence 
reposed  in  him  'even  by  Louis,  against  whose 
policy  and  Ministers  he  had  arrayed  himself,  that 
he  was  requested  to  form  one  of  the  Commission 
appointed  to  inquire  into  the  causes  of  the  poverty 
of  the  Exchequer. 

From  this  time  forth  Lafiitte  was  a  "  friendly 
opponent"  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  Bourbons  ; 
still,  as  formerly,  when  pressing  exigencies  oc- 
curred, acting  the  part  of  a  friend  to  his  country 


272  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

by  relieving  the  constituted  government  of  its 
difficulties,  while  he  boldly  blamed  it  for  the  follies 
which  brought  them  on.  A  crisis  on  the  Exchange 
in  1818  again  threatened  disastrous  consequences, 
which  were  averted  solely  by  the  purchase  on  the 
part  of  Laffitte  of  four  hundred  thousand  francs 
of  Rentes — a  means  whereby  he  preserved  the 
peace  of  the  kingdom,  if  not  the  permanency  of 
the  dynasty  with  the  ruling  policy  of  which  his 
love  of  liberty  was  in  stern  conflict.  And  still, 
amidst  all  these  disbursements,  he  persevered  in 
rejecting,  in  1822,  the  princely  remuneration  at- 
tached to  the  governorship  of  the  Bank. 

The  early  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  with  which 
Laffitte  viewed  the  acts  of  the  Government  were 
destined  to  be  too  early  justified  by  the  famous 
encroachments  made  upon  the  Charter  granted  to 
the  people  on  the  reinstatement  of  the  old  dynasty. 
His  cherished  theory,  over  which  he  had  long 
brooded,  was  to  reduce  the  charges  on  the  pubhc 
by  reducing  the  expenditure  of  the  State,  and  with 
lively  chagrin  he  witnessed  a  course  of  court 
tactics  the  very  reverse.  These  encroachments, 
w^hich  are  now  matter  of  familiar  history,  were 
gradually  progressing  from  one  small  step  to  a 
greater,  when,  in  1827,  the  dissolution  of  the 
National  Guard,  the  boldest  proceeding  yet  at- 
tempted, roused  him  suddenly  to  the  resolution 
of  proposing  an  impeachment  of  the  Ministers  of 
the  Crown.  The  Opposition  were  proud  of  their 
leader.     In  the  words  of  M.  de  Lomenie,  "  placed 


JACQUES   LAFFITTE,  273 

in  the  vanguard  of  the  defenders  of  the  Charter 
— popular  as  well  by  his  opinions  as  by  his  gener- 
osity, the  opulent  banker  sees  himself  surrounded 
by  all  the  notabilities  of  the  press  and  the  tribune." 
This  proposal  of  an  impeachment  brought  Laf- 
fitte  still  more  prominently  forward  as  a  defender 
of  the  people  against  the  unscrupulous  encroach- 
ments of  Charles ;  and  thus  claimed  by  his  coun- 
trymen, it  is  generally  supposed  that  it  was  to  con- 
firm their  faith  in  his  friendship  and  participation 
that  he  consented  to  give  his  daughter  in*  marriage 
to  the  eldest  son  of  Marshal  Ney,  the  Prince  of 
Moskowa.  It  was  about  this  time  that  he  began 
to  view  the  state  of  public  affairs  as  verging 
toward  a  crisis  ;  and  the  love  of  his  country, 
which,  from  his  first  entry  into  Paris,  had  never 
ceased  to  occupy  his  thoughts,  inspired  him  with 
painful  solicitude  for  the  issue  of  such  an  event  as 
the  downfall  of  the  older  branch  of  the  Bourbons. 
No  effort  could  banish  from  his  mind  the  convic- 
tion that  that  event  was  imminent.  Adopting  his 
vaticinations  as  verified  truths,  he  began  to  cast 
about  his  thoughts  in  every  direction  for  some 
means  of  salvation  from  a  repetition  of  that  fright- 
ful anarchy  of  which  he  had  been  an  early  witness, 
and  the  elements  of  which  he  knew  still  slumbered 
in  many  minds.  Nor  could  he  find  any  resting- 
place  for  his  hopes,  except  in  the  cause,  not  yet 
even  surmised,  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  whose 
liberal  sentiments  harmonized  with  his  own.  Alas  I 
how  little  did  he  know  with  what  adverse  fortunes 
18 


274  FAMOTJS   BOYS. 

these  noble  hopes  for  his  country's  welfare  were 
to  be  linked  by  the  decrees  of  fate.  He  was  not 
a  man  to  hesitate  on  the  hovering  advent  of  a 
crisis  ;  but  his  boldness  was  still  tempered  by 
prudence,  and  the  first  whisper  of  his  sentiments 
was  the  expression  of  a  purpose  from  which  no 
man  could  turn  him.  He  found  willing  proselytes, 
and  encountered  terrible  foes  ;  but  his  secret 
cause  progressed,  till  the  well-known  events  of 
July,  1830,  brought  it  to  a  crisis.  The  dreaded 
ordinances  were  issued  by  the  Government,  the 
protest  of  the  Deputies  signed,  and  the  order  for 
their  arrest  had  arrived,  when  Laffitte,  with  Lobau, 
Gerard,  Maguin,  and  Casimir  Perier,  repaired  to 
the  palace.  The  issue  is  known  to  all  modern 
readers.  The  palace  of  the*  Duke  of  Orleans  now 
became  the  rendezvous  of  a  general  insurrection ; 
and  when  D'Argout  arrived  with  the  intimation 
that  the  ordinances  were  recalled  by  the  king, 
Laffitte  was  the  man  who  called  out,  "  It  is  too 
late ;  there  is  no  longer  a  Charles  the  Tenth."  At 
the  same  time  a  deputation,  proposed  by  Laffitte, 
was  sent  to  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  offering  him  the 
Lieutenancy  of  the  kingdom.  In  proceeding  with 
this  deputation,  it  is  said  that  Laffitte  got  his  feet 
wounded  by  scrambling  over  a  barricade.  The 
Duke  perceived  the  wound.  "Never  mind  my 
feet,"  said  Laffitte;  "look  to  my  hands;  there  is 
a  crown  in  them." 

It  was  truly  Laffitte  who  achieved   for  Louis 
Philippe  the  crown  of  France,  and  it  was  as  truly 


JACQUES   LAFJbTTTE.  275 

that  patriotic  act  which  achieved  the  fall  and  ruin 
of  this  extraordinary  man.  So  long  as  he  re- 
mained within  the  sphere  of  his  peculiar  genius, 
he  was  successful  both  for  himself  and  his  country 
in  almost  every  enterprise  in  which  he  engaged. 
When  he  became  a  politician  of  France,  with 
mediatorial  views  calculated  to  effect  a  fusion  be- 
tween the  fiery  spirits  of  republicanism  and  legiti- 
macy, he  cast  his  fortunes  into  the  common  fate 
of  French  moderation.  Li  an  evil  hour  he  ac- 
cepted the  Presidency  of  the  Council,  and  formed 
the  ministry  of  the  3d  November,  but  to  his  dis- 
appointment he  foimd  his  measures  rejected  by  one 
side  of  the  house,  and  not  heartily  accepted  by 
the  other.  He  was  deserted,  too,  by  those  men 
who  had  stood  by  his  side  in  the  hottest  hours 
of  the  revolution  of  July,  and  upon  whom  he  cal- 
culated with  a  confidence  equal  to  what  he  reposed 
in  his  o^\^l  faith.  Lafayette  renounced  the  com- 
mand of  the  National  Guards.  The  excitement 
consequent  upon  a  new  revolution  had  not  abated, 
and  failures  on  every  hand  aggravated  the  position 
by  producing  fears  of  another  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  republicans.  Laffitte  had  for  once 
committed  a  mistake,  and  no  sooner  did  he  satisfy 
himself  of  the  difficulties  by  which  he  was  sur- 
rounded on  all  hands  than  he  resolved  to  recede. 
On  the  13th  of  March,  1831,  he  was  succeeded  by 
Casimir  Ferier. 

But  the  man  was  ruined.     The  revolution  of 
July  had  produced  an  unfavorable  effect  upon  his 


276  FA^lOUS    BOYS. 

credit.  His  entry  on  public  affairs  had  compelled 
him  to  abandon  the  direction  of  his  own  banking- 
house,  and  a  losing  balance-sheet  soon  showed  the 
absence  of  the  great  director.  In  July  he  had 
put  his  money-box  at  the  command  of  the  new 
Government,  composed  in  some  instances  of  men 
whose  capital  lay  in  politics  rather  than  money, 
and  so  it  happened  that  Laffitte's  coffers  were  rifled 
with  all  the  avidity  of  political  adventurers.  On 
a  sudden  he  found  himself  encompassed  by  a  legion 
of  creditors.  Among  the  rest  was  the  Bank  of 
France,  of  which  he  had  been  so  long  the  tutelary 
genius,  and  to  which  he  now  owed  thirteen  mil- 
lions, borrowed  for  no  other  purpose  than  the  good 
of  his  country.  To  liquidate  a  remnant  of  this 
last  claim,  after  all  his  other  creditors  had  been 
satisfied  by  the  sale  of  his  estates — one  of  which, 
the  Forest  of  Breteuil,  he  sold  to  Louis  Philippe 
for  ten  millions — he  proposed  to  dispose  of  his 
hotel  in  Paris,  and  his  share  in  the  business  of  his 
bank ;  but  a  national  subscription,  dictated  by  so 
many  splendid  reminiscences  of  the  proprietor, 
saved  from  the  wreck  this  grand  residence,  which 
he  had  long  before  opened  to  concerts  and  public 
balls.  In  this  subscription  we  find  among  other 
names  that  of  Napoleon  III.  for  six  hundred  francs. 
The  amount  soon  reached  four  hundred  thousand 
francs.  By  the  year  1836,  he  had  contrived  to 
satisfy  every  claim  against  him,  and  there  re- 
mained to  him  who  had  wielded  millions  as  if 
they  had  been  hundreds  only  a  few  thousands. 


JACQUKR    LAFriTTE.  277 

We  may  add  that  M.  Goiiiii  succeeded  him  in  the 
direction  of  his  bank,  which  fell  disastrously  in 
the  revolution  of  1848.  Laffitte  had  good  reason 
for  the  exclamation  which  he  made  from  the 
tribune :  "  I  ask  pardon  of  God  and  man  for  the 
part  I  took  in  the  revolution  of  July." 

With  this  extreme  position  of  the  aflairs  of  the 
great  banker,  the  interest  in  his  life  almost  ceases. 
His  subsequent  efforts  to  redeem  his  pecuniary 
elevation  failed  on  all  hands ;  but  the  sterling 
worth  and  love  of  freedom  for  which  he  had  been 
60  long  distinguished,  secured  for  him,  without 
stint  or  exception,  the  admiration  and  gratitude 
of  France. 

It  has  been  truly  said  of  him  that  he  was  a  man 
whom  unbounded  wealth  had  no  power  to  make 
haughty,  nor  comparative  poverty  any  influence  to 
make  mean.  It  is  recounted  by  M.  Arago  that  he 
always  retained  the  just  pride  of  his  humble  origin. 
We  may  give  an  instance :  his  grand-daughter 
said  to  him  one  day  that  her  companions  in  the 
boarding-house  called  her  princess,  and  she  was 
under  great  difiiculty  to  know  why  the  grand-pa 
of  a  princess  was  not  a  prince.  Tell  them,  replied 
Lafiittc,  that  I  am  a  prince  du  Habot.  However 
enigmatical  this  answ  er  might  appear,  as  well  to 
the  princess  as  her  companions,  it  is  sufficiently 
intelligible  to  those  who  know  that  he  had  used 
the  carpenter's  plane  before  he  took  up  the  pen  of 
the  financier. 

Laffitte  died  suddenly  of  an   affection   of  the 


278  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

lungs.  More  than  twenty  thousand  people  attend- 
ed his  funeral.  It  is  said  by  M.  Arago  that  thei-e 
were  found  in  his  repositories  after  his  death  no 
fewer  than  seven  thousand  two  hundred  entries  on 
slips  of  paper,  containing  the  heads  of  as  many 
speculations,  which  were  destined  to  be  inter- 
rupted. 


AUDUBO]^. 

John  James  Audubon,  the  celebrated  ornithol- 
ogist, was  born  in  the  year  1776,  on  a  plantation 
in  Louisiana,  then  a  colony  of  France.  His  father 
was  an  officer  in  the  French  navy,  and  had  settled 
in  that  section  to  enjoy  a  dignified  leisure.  His 
circumstances  were  opulent,  his  habits  retired,  and 
his  intellect  of  high  cultivation.  He  early  di- 
rected the  attention  of  his  son  to  those  natural 
objects  in  the  study  of  which  the  youthful  Audu- 
bon afterward  became  so  distinguished.  Almost 
from  infancy  the  lad  took  a  lively  interest  in  the 
winged  and  feathered  tribes.  A  love  of  birds  is 
natural  to  the  hearts  of  children,  but  Audubon's 
childish  affection  for  them  was  of  no  ordinary 
kind.  His  interest  in  them  was  so  absorbing  that 
with  an  uninstructed  skill  he  began  to  draw  and 
color  them  in  order  that  their  graceful  forms  might 
never  be  absent  from  his  eyes. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  the  young  ornithologist 
was  sent  to  Paris  to  complete  his  education.  He 
remained  in  Paris  nearly  three  years,  when  he  re- 
turned, glad  to  escape  from  studies  which  interest- 


280  FAMOIJS   BOYS. 

ed  him  but  little,  to  resume  his  favorite  pursuit. 
His  passion  was  for  the  fields,  woods,  and  rivers ; 
he  hated  the  town,  with  its  crowd  and  noise ;  the 
world  which  he  panted  to  enjoy  was  in  the  solitary 
haunts  of  warbling  friends — a  world  replete  with 
a  life  and  animation  more  fascinating  to  him  than 
the  gayest  scenes  of  the  gayest  city  in  the  world. 
In  the  contemplation  of  birds,  their  manners,  cus- 
toms, habits,  and  language,  he  found  complete 
employment  for  all  his  faculties — food  for  his 
thoughts,  recreation  for  his  mind,  and  subjects  for 
his  pen  and  pencil. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  America  his  father  gave 
him  a  farm  on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill,  in  Penn- 
sylvania, where  his  taste  for  his  favorite  science 
strengthened  and  developed  itself  with  time  and 
study. 

"  His  researches  were  prosecuted  with  unabated 
zeal  and  ardor,  and  his  skill  in  drawing  improved 
by  practice.  His  devotion  to  ornithology  prompted 
him  to  make  excursions  fxr  and  wide  over  the 
country.  Arrayed  in  a  coarse  leathern  dress, 
armed  with  a  sure  rifle,  and  provided  with  a  knap- 
sack containing  sketching  and  coloring  materials, 
he  roamed  for  days,  sometimes  even  for  months  at 
a  time  in  quest  of  animals  to  study  and  portray. 
His  eagerness  was  only  equalled  by  his  patience; 
he  would  watch  for  hours  among  canes  to  see  some 
plumed  songstress  feeding  her  young ;  he  would 
climb  precipitous  mountains  to  mark  the  king  of 
birds  hovering   over  its   nest,    secure    amid  the 


AUDUBON.  281 

strength  of  rocks.  lie  braved  the  dreadful  perils 
of  rushing  tides,  and  the  merciless  bowie-knife  of 
the  lurking  Indian,  in  order  to  gratify  his  taste 
and  add  to  his  knowledge ;  and  in  pursuit  of  his 
object  he  exhibited  at  once  the  fresh  soul  of  a 
child  and  the  courageous  spirit  of  a  hero.  His 
wanderings  were  among  unfrequented  solitudes, 
solitary  w\aterfalls,  and  pathless  groves ;  and  thus 
despising  hunger,  fatigue,  and  danger,  he  formed 
by  lonely  study  that  intimate  acquaintance  with 
the  shapes  and  plumages  of  the  birds  of  the  air, 
which  he  afterward  displayed  to  the  busy  world 
in  his  brilliant,  interesting,  and  entertaining  vol- 
umes." 

Notwithstanding  his  devotion  to  science,  he  was 
early  married,  fortunately  to  a  woman  who  sympa- 
thised with  his  tastes.  In  1809  he  removed  to  a 
farm  in  Kentucky,  near  Louisville,  and  two  years 
later  moved  further  up  the  Ohio,  on  the  verge  of 
the  wilderness,  and  then  commenced  in  earnest 
that  nomadic  life  in  the  prosecution  of  his  great 
study,  Avhich  marked  him  a  true  hero.  With  gun, 
knapsack,  and  drawing  materials,  he  traversed  the 
dark  forests  and  pestiferous  fens,  sleeping  beneath 
the  broad  canopy  of  heaven,  procuring  food  with 
his  rifle,  and  undergoing  day  after  day  great 
fatigues  and  privations.  For  years  he  thus  wan- 
dered from  the  shores  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  the 
coasts  of  Labrador,  impelled  to  his  labors  ap- 
parently byjio  other  motive  than  the  gratification 
of  a  great  controlling  passion.     It  was  not,  it  is 


2S2  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

said,  until  after  an  interview  with  Charles  Lucien 
Bonaparte,  in  1824,  that  Audubon  thought  of  pub- 
lishing the  results  of  his  labors.  Thus  far  his 
mature  life  had  been  devoted  to  the  worship  of 
nature,  lost  to  himself  in  the  excess  of  his  dehght 
in  the  devotion.  Now  he  experienced  new  sensa- 
tions; he  began  to  think  of  fame.  He  made 
another  tour  of  eighteen  months'  duration,  and  in 
1826  sailed  for  England,  to  make  arrangements  for 
publishing  his  drawings  and  descriptive  notices. 
His  portraits  of  birds  were  of  life-size,  and  they 
produced  a  marked  sensation  among  artists  and 
literary  men  in  Great  Britain.  Subscriptions  to 
his  work,  amounting  to  about  eighty  thousand 
dollars,  were  speedily  obtained.  In  1830,  the  first 
volume  of  his  great  work  was  issued — a  work 
which  the  celebrated  naturalist,  Cuvier,  pro- 
nounced "the  most  gigantic  and  most  magnificent 
monument  that  has  ever  been  erected  to  nature." 
Four  volumes  comj^leted  the  work,  the  last  of 
which  appeared  about  six  years  after  the  issue  of 
the  first. 

Not  content  with  the  accomplishment  of  this 
vast  undertaking,  at  the  age  of  sixty  years  Mr. 
Audubon  again  went  into  the  forests  and  moun- 
tains to  explore  another  department  of  natural 
history.  The  result  of  this  enterprise,  which  was 
attended  with  immense  toil  and  continual  hard- 
ships, was  his  Quadompeds  of  America^  second  only 
to  his  great  work  on  the  Birds  of  America. 

In  1839  Mr.  Audubon  made  his  residence  on  the 


AUDUBON.  283 

banks  of  the  Hudson,  near  the  city  of  New  York, 
where  he  Hved  until  the  time  of  his  death,  which 
occurred  in  his  seventy-third  year,  on  the  27th  of 
Januaryj  1851. 


WILLIAM  JAY. 

William  Jay  was  a  beardless  boy  when  he 
commenced  his  career :  we  learn  this  from  an  an- 
ecdote related  by  himself  in  his  autobiography. 
He  had  been  preaching  at  Melksham  on  the  Sun- 
day ;  on  the  following  morning  he  called  upon  an 
old  gentleman  from  London,  a  very  wise  man  in 
his  own  opinion.  He  did  not  receive  Jay  very 
courteously,  but  said  rudely,  he  had  no  notion  of 
beardless  boys  being  employed  as  preachers. 
"Pray,  sir,"  said  Jay,  "does  not  Paul  say  to 
Timothy,  '  Let  no  man  despise  thy  youth !'  And, 
sir,  you  remind  me  of  what  I  have  read  of  a 
French  monarch,  who  had  received  a  young  am- 
bassador, and  complainingly  said,  '  Your  master 
should  not  have  sent  me  a  beardless  stripling !' 
'  Sir,'  said  the  youthful  ambassador,  '  had  my  mas- 
ter supposed  you  wanted  a  beard,  he  would  have 
sent  you  a  goat.'  " 

On  the  subject  of  the  ancestors  of  Jay  we  are 
not  much  enlightened :  nor  does  it  much  matter. 
Jay  has  said  facetiously,  in  the  words  of  Bacon, 
that  they  who  derive  their  worth  from  their  ances- 
tors resemble  potatoes,  the  most  valijable  part  of 


WILLIAM   JAY.  -  285 

which  is  underground.  He  used  to  relate,  that 
when  one  of  Lord  Thurlow's  friends  was  endeav- 
oring to  make  out  his  relationship  to  the  Secretary- 
Cromwell,  whose  family  had  been  settled  in  the 
county  adjoining  Suffolk,  he  replied,  "  Sir,  there 
were  two  Cromwells  in  that  part  of  the  country, 
Thurlow  the  secretary,  and  Thurlow  the  carrier — 
I  am  descended  from  the  latter."  This  is  almost 
as  good  as  the  anecdote  related  of  the  man  who, 
being  asked  some  questions  about  his  pedigree, 
answered  that  "  he  was  not  particularly  sure,  but 
had  been  credibly  informed  that  he  had  three 
brothers  in  the  ark." 

Jay's  ftxther  was  a  stone-mason.  Neither  his 
father  nor  mother  were  persons  of  much  educa- 
tion ;  they  were,  however,  upright,  conscientious, 
kind,  tender,  charitable,  and  were  much  esteemed 
in  the  neighborhood.  The  family  attended  the 
ministry  of  a  Presbyterian,  who  was  described  as 
a  dry  and  dull  preacher,  but  very  kind  and  gener- 
ous. He  gave  Jay  the  two  first  books  he  could 
call  his  own — Watt's  "History  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament,"  and  Bunyan's  "  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gress." At  this  time  he  was  receiving  the  humble 
education  afforded  at  the  village  school.  But  he 
was  not  apt  in  receiving  instruction.  One  of  his 
sisters  said  the  family  thought  William  would 
never  learn  to  read ;  but  when  he  did  master  the 
art,  he  was  very  anxious  to  acquire  additional 
knowledge.  He  was,  perhaps,  learning  more  at 
this  time  than  his  teachers  would  give  him  credit 


286  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

for.  The  impressions  of  the  beautiful  scenery 
around  his  home  sank  into  his  heart  and  memory, 
during  his  solitary  walks,  never  after  to  be  effaced. 
At  this  time  he  had  a  reputation  for  being  a  good 
boy,  with  a  desire  to  do  right ;  he  had  not,  as  he 
relates,  any  immoralities.  On  one  occasion,  how- 
ever, while  he  was  at  play,  he  uttered  a  falsehood, 
accompanying  the  untruth  with  an  oath,  to  carry 
his  point.  This  wicked  act  so  preyed  upon  his 
conscience  that  he  shortly  after  retired  to  his  own 
room,  to  repent  in  solitude,  and  to  ask  God's  for- 
giveness. 

He  was  apprenticed  to  his  father's  business, 
stone-cutting,  when  he  was  about  fourteen  years 
of  age,  and  worked  with  his  father  at  the  building 
of  Fonthill  House,  the  celebrated  residence  of  Mr. 
Beckford.  On  one  occasion,  after  his  day's  labor, 
he  went  to  hear  a  Mr.  Turner  preach  in  a  private 
dwelling ;  the  singing  and  the  sermon  upon  that 
occasion  made  a  deep  impression  upon  him,  so 
that  he  scarcely  slept,  he  tells  us,  for  weeping 
and  for  joy.  Next  morning  there  was  another 
service  at  seven  o'clock,  at  which  Jay  was  the  first 
attendant.  Mrs.  Turner,  the  preacher's  wife, 
opened  the  door,  and  kindly  taking  him  by  the 
hand,  said :  "  Are  you  hungering  for  the  bread  of 
life?"  Subsequently,  this  excellent  woman  met 
William  on  his  way  from  work  on  several  occa- 
sions, and  conversed  with  him  as  only  a  good  kind 
woman  can.  Just  at  this  time  the  excellent  Cor- 
nelius Winter  came  to   preach   at  Tisbury.     Jay 


WILLIAM   JAY.  287 

formed  one  of  the  congregation,  whose  counte- 
nance so  impressed  the  preacher  as  to  be  remem- 
bered twelve  months  after,  when  he  again  officiated 
in  the  same  place.  This  second  occasion  was  on  a 
week  evening,  when  there  sat  Jay  with  his  flannel 
jacket  and  his  white  leather  apron,  just  as  he  had 
returned  from  work.  After  the  sermon  the  minis- 
ter sought  an  interview  with  him,  when  he  doubt- 
less wondered  what  he  could  be  wanted  for.  It 
may  be  as  well  to  state  here,  that  the  rich,  refined, 
and  elegant  Mr.  Beckford,  during  the  time  that 
Jay  was  preaching  in  Bath,  took  an  opportunity  to 
hear  him,  without  being  aware  of  the  fact  that  the 
preacher  had  been  employed  as  a  lad  in  the  rear- 
ing of  his  princely  home.  He  afterward  left  a 
noble  tribute  to  Jay's  power.  He  said :  "  This 
man's  mind  is  no  petty  reservoir  supplied  him  by 
laborious  pumpings  :  it  is  a  clear,  transparent 
spring,  flowing  so  freely  as  to  impress  the  idea  of 
its  being  inexhaustible.  In  many  of  these  pas- 
sages the  stream  of  eloquence  is  so  full,  so  rapid, 
that  we  are  fairly  borne  down  and  laid  prostrate 
at  the  feet  of  the  preacher,  whose  arguments  in 
these  moments  appear  as  if  they  could  not  be 
controverted,  and  we  must  yield  to  them.  The 
voice  which  calls  us  to  look  into  ourselves,  and 
prepare  for  judgment,  is  too  piercing,  too  power- 
ful, to  be  resisted ;  and  we  attempt,  for  worldly 
and  sensual  considerations,  to  shut  our  ears  in 
vain." 

One  evening,  after  hearing  a.  sermon   by  Mr. 


288  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

Turner,  on  family  worship,  Jay  returned  home 
and  besought  his  father  to  undertake  it.  On  his 
refusing,  on  account  of  inability,  he  offered  to  per- 
form it  himself.  The  offer  was  accepted  with 
tears,  and  he  became  a  kind  of  domestic  chaplain. 
On  the  occasion  of  Mr.  Winter  preaching  the 
second  time  at  Tisbury,  as  has  been  intimated,  he 
desired  the  door-keeper  to  ask  "Billy  Jay"  to 
come  to  him  in  the  parlor  after  the  service. 
When  he  did  so,  the  good  man  knelt  down  and 
prayed  with  him,  and  subsequently  offered  to  ad- 
mit him  amongst  a  small  academy  of  young  men 
that  he  was  educating.  The  invitation  was  happily 
accepted.  He  went  to  Marlborough,  where  for 
some  years,  he  was  under  the  instruction  of  that 
"  celestial  creature,  Cornelius  Winter,"  as  Bishop 
Jebb  called  him. 

It  may  be  both  interesting  and  instructive  to 
insert  a  specimen  of  Jay's  literary  ability  at  the 
time  of  his  joining  the  academy — there  is  only  one 
specimen  extant,  and,  contrasted  with  the  after- 
productions  of  Jay,  it  is  a  very  curious  document 
indeed.     It  is  inserted,  of  course,  verbatim. 

"  To  Mr.  Winter,  Marlborough. 

"Tisbury,  January  30th,  1785. 
"Dutiful  Freind — this  comes  with  my  kind 
love  to  you  hoping  It  will  find  you  in  good  health 
as  it  Left  me  and  all  my  friend  at  tisbury  thanks 
be  to  god  for  his  mercy  and  Goodness  in  preser- 
ving  us   to  thisi  present  moment  in  health   and 


WILLIAM  JAY.  .  289 

strength,  health  is  the  honey  that  Sweetens  every 
temporal  mercy  to  be  well  in  body  is  a  great  bless- 
ing but  to  be  well  in  soul  is  a  much  greater  Bless- 
ing than  this  what  is  the  body  when  compar'd 
with  the  Soul  it  is  no  more  than  the  Candles  Slen- 
der Light  to  the  great  illuminary  the  Sun  in  its 
meridian  Splendor  and  beauty. 

"  I  received  your  Letter  and  was  very  thankfull 
for  your  kindness  to  me  in  it.  You  Desired  to 
hear  from  me  Mr.  Serman's  return  and  if  I  could 
write  you  something  of  my  Christian  Experience, 
my  experience  is  that  I  Desire  to  Love  the  Lord 
above  all  and  Desire  to  Live  more  to  his  Glory 
and  honor.  I  hope  that  I  can  say  that  he  is  the 
chiefest  to  my  Soul  of  ten  thousand  and  altogether 
Lovely  I  Desire  to  know  nothing  but  Jesus  and 
Desire  to  be  found  in  him  not  having  on  my  own 
Righteousness  which  is  polluted  with  sin  and  im- 
pure but  the  Righteousness  which  is  of  god  which 
is  for  all  and  upon  all  that  Believe  in  him.  my 
father  says  that  he  will  find  me  in  cloths  as  much 
as  he  is  able  I  can  come  at  any  time  when  you 
think  proper  So  I  conclude  with  my  father  and 
mother's  Love  to  you  I  am  your  humble  servant. 

"William  Jay." 

It  will  be  apparent  that  few  persons  could  go  to 
any  academy  more  deficient  of  general  knowledge 
than  Jay.  But  he  had  the  essential  thirst  for  in- 
formation which  insured  application  when  the  op- 
portunity was  presented.  At  the  academy  he  soon 
19 


290  FAMOUS   BOYS. 

made  progress  under  the  direction  of  his  tutor,  by 
whom  he  was  appointed  at  various  times,  with  the 
other  pupils,  to  visit  the  surrounding  villages  to 
exhort  and  in  various  ways  to  forward  the  spiritual 
interests  of  the  people.  Jay  was  little  more  than 
sixteen  when  he  preached  his  first  sermon,  select- 
ing as  his  text,  "  If  so  be  ye  have  tasted  that  the 
Lord  is  gracious."  After  this  he  preached  very 
frequently,  so  that  he  delivered,  as  he  tells  us, 
more  than  a  thousand  sermons  before  he  had  at- 
tained his  twenty-first  year. 

Jay  was  not  unconscious,  from  the  fact  of  the 
many  applications  for  the  "  boy  preacher,"  that  he 
possessed  talents  of  which  he  had  previously  taken 
no  account.  He  had,  however,  the  good  sense  to 
know  if  he  was  to  make  any  figure  in  the  world, 
he  must  remember  a  remark  in  the  "Life  of 
Watts :"  "  The  reason  why  the  ancients  surpassed 
the  moderns  was  their  greater  modesty.  They 
had  a  juster  conception  of  the  limitation  of  human 
powers;  and,  despairing  of  universal  eminence, 
they  confined  their  application  to  one  thing,  in- 
stead of  expanding  it  over  a  wider  surface." 

After  the  needful  preparation  at  Mr.  "Winter's, 
Jay  was  engaged  by  the  celebrated  Rev.  Rowland 
Hill  to  preach  for  a  season  at  the  Surrey  Chapel, 
London — a  formidable  engagement  for  so  young  a 
man.  The  place,  though  so  large,  was  soon  crowded 
to  excess ;  and  when  he  preached  his  last  sermon, 
the  yard  before  the  adjoining  dwelling-house  was 
filled  with  the  linojerino^  multitude  who  would  not 


WILLIAAI   JAY.  291 

disperse  until  he  had  bidden  them  farewell  from 
the  window.  Before  he  left  London,  he  had 
several  offers  to  become  the  pastor  of  various 
chapels.  "With  singular  good  sense  he  declined 
the  invitations,  with  the  wise  intention  of  securing 
more  preparation  before  entering  upon  any  import- 
ant permanent  charge.  For  this  purpose  he  ac- 
cepted a  small  charge  at  Christian  Malford,  near 
Chippenham.  His  salary  was  to  be  £35  a  year, 
with  the  additional  consideration  of  being  boarded 
gratuitously  by  one  of  the  tradesmen  of  this  place. 
His  design,  however,  in  going  to  the  village  was 
frustrated;  his  books  were  few;  there  was  no 
pubUc  Hbrary  to  which  he  could  have  access,  and 
his  salary  was  too  small  to  allow  him  to  purchase 
new  ones ;  also,  as  a  further  impediment  to  his  im- 
provement, he  was  constantly  urged  to  preach 
abroad,  and  he  lacked  the  moral  courage  to  say 
"JSTo." 

After  leaving  Christian  Malford,  which  the  cir- 
cumstances of  the  case  compelled  him  to  do.  Lady 
Maxwell,  who  owned  the  chapel  at  the  Hotwells 
at  Bristol,  invited  him  to  occupy  her  pulpit.  He 
stayed  there  twelve  months,  during  which  time  the 
chapel  was  always  crowded ;  and,  what  must  have 
filled  him  with  great  joy,  he  heard  of  several  con- 
versions as  the  result  of  his  preaching,  three  of 
whom  subsequently  became  preachers  themselves^ 
and  were  ordained  over  congregations,  and  ulti- 
mately, he  had  the  satisfaction  to  know,  died  in 
the  faith.    A  little  difference  arising  with  Lady 


292  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

Maxwell's  sub-governess,  who  had  the  manage- 
ment of  affidrs  in  her  lady's  absence,  mduced  Jay 
to  withdraw  from  the  charge.  At  this  time  he 
fortunately  received  an  invitation  from  the  Inde- 
pendent Church  at  Bath,  then  destitute  by  the 
death  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Tuppen.  This  invita- 
tion he  accepted,  and  soon  found  himself  in  his 
new  position  completely  at  home.  His  ordination 
shortly  followed ;  when  he  might  now  be  said  to 
have  made  his  permanent  choice.  Subsequently 
the  chapel  was  thrice  enlarged,  and  even  then  it 
was  too  small  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  numbers 
who  desired  sittings. 

Shortly  after  his  establishment  at  Bath,  he  mar- 
ried a  most  excellent  and  amiable  woman,  that 
was  in  his  after-life,  under  all  circumstances,  a  true 
helpmate.  Jay  speaks  of  her  in  terms  the  most 
enthusiastic,  and  doubtless  ever  loved  her  with  the 
utmost  warmth  of  his  ardent  nature.  Both  Jay 
and  his  wife  suffered  from  continued  illness  at 
different  periods  of  their  lives.  He  speaks  of  his 
own  illness  as  resulting  from  a  weak  constitution 
and  study,  which  had  at  times  been  much  pro- 
tracted. For  a  lengthened  period  he  had  been 
subject  to  constant  headaches,  which  rendered 
both  his  preaching  and  his  preparatory  studies 
painful.  At  times,  his  sight  was  so  confused  that 
he  was  almost  rendered  unconscious  of  outward 
things.  The  medical  men  to  whom  he  applied 
used  all  the  means  which  their  skill  and  experience 
suggested,  which  only  resulted,  however,  in  bring- 


WILLIAM   JAY.  293 

ing  him  almost  to  the  biink  of  the  grave.  In  this 
emergency  he  was  recommended  by  the  slaves' 
friend,  Mr.  Wilberforce,  to  consult  Dr.  BailHe, 
whom  he  recommended  as  his  friend  and  physi- 
cian. The  result  of  this  advice  was  the  adoption 
of  habits  which  ultimately  tended  to  the  restora- 
tion of  his  health.  In  the  first  place,  he  contracted 
the  custom  of  being  seldom  in  bed  after  five  in 
the  morning ;  this  was  not  because  he  could  not 
sleep,  but  because  he  felt  it  a  duty  to  practice  this 
self-denial.  He  felt  that  the  practice  was  morally 
right,  as  it  redeemed  time  and  aided  duty:  and 
also  that  it  was  physically  right,  as  it  was  whole- 
some and  healthful.  Then,  in  addition,  he  was 
exceedingly  temperate  in  his  food ;  he  used,  in  his 
later  years  at  least,  water  only.  He  was  careful, 
also,  not  to  add  to  his  wants  by  any  fictitious  ap- 
petites. The  wretched  habits  of  snuff-taking  and 
smoking  he  carefully  avoided,  and  during  any  tem- 
porary headache,  or  disturbance  of  his  general 
health,  exercised  himself  in  the  garden  or  in  any 
open-air  relaxation,  which  soon  brought  back  the 
desired  healthy  tone. 

The  works  he  published  during  his  protracted 
life  were  read  with  the  utmost  avidity  by  the 
members  of  the  various  denominations.  His  first 
literary  venture  was  a  sermon  on  "The  mutual 
Duties  of  Husbands  and  Wives,"  which  went 
through  six  editions,  and  was  much  commended  at 
the  time.  This  was'  succeeded  by  a  volume  of 
sermons,  also  favorably  received ;  and  subsequent 


294:  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

volumes  of  sermons — "Short  Discourses  for  the 
Use  of  Families,"  went  through  repeated  editions, 
and  procured  for  him  the  diploma  of  D.  D.  This 
title  he  never  used  except  on  one  occasion,  as  he 
relates,  when  he  left  a  case  of  manuscripts  at  a 
large  inn.  It  answered  the  purpose  of  preserving 
the  papers,  and  from  that  circumstance  Jay  argued 
the  use  of  such  honors.  After  the  volumes  of  ser- 
mons he  published  two  biographical  works — "  The 
Life  of  the  Rev.  CorneUus  Winter,"  and  "  Memoirs 
of  the  Rev.  John  Clarke."  He  also  published  two 
volumes  of  "  Morning  Exercises  for  the  Closet," 
which  soon  reached  a  tenth  edition ;  these  were 
f^-llowed  by  two  more  volumes  of  exercises  for  the 
"Evening."  Many,  if  not  the  whole  of  these 
works,  were  reprinted  in  America ;  and  one  com- 
plete collected  edition  of  the  entire  was  published 
at  Baltimore. 

Jay  records  the  circumstance  of  preaching  at  the 
opening  of  Hanover  Chapel,  on  which  occasion  the 
Duke  of  Sussex  was  present.  He  adopted  his 
usual  custom,  to  retire  before  the  service,  for 
prayer  and  contemplation ;  so  that  when  he  en- 
tered the  pulpit  he  delivered  his  message  with  his 
accustomed  freedom.  The  fear  of  man  had  no 
snare  for  him.  He  did  not,  as  a  custom,  write  out 
his  sermons,  yet,  as  the  opportunity  presented,  he 
committed  his  thoughts  to  paper.  It  was  the  advice 
of  Mrs.  Hannah  More,  at  her  first  interview  with 
him,  to  write  much.  "  It  matters  not,  compara^ 
lively,"  said  that  extraordinary  woman,  to  whom 


WILLIAJ^I   JAY.  295 

the  world  owes  a  deep  debt  of  gratitude,  "on 
what  a  young  composer  first  writes ;  by  the  con- 
stant use  of  his  pen  he  will  soon  form  a  style  ;  and 
by  nothing  else  will  he  attain  it."  She  also  recom- 
mended writing  with  as  much  celerity  as  possible, 
regardless  of  trifling  inaccuracies.  "These,"  she 
said,  "should  not  be  suffered  to  check  and  cool 
the  mind.  These  may  be  safely  left  for  correction 
in  review,  while  advantage  is  taken  of  the  heat  of 
composition  to  go  on  to  the  end ;  it  being  better  to 
produce  the  whole  figure  at  one  fusion  than  to 
cast  successively  various  parts,  and  then  conjoin 
them." 

On  the  31st  day  of  January,  1841,  Mr.  Jay  com- 
pleted his  fiftieth  year  of  ministering.  On  that 
occasion  the  members  of  his  congregation  pres- 
ented him  with  a  silver  salver,  with  the  following 
inscription : — 

"  Presented,  together  with  the  sum  of  six  hun- 
dred and  fifty  pounds  to  the  Rev.  William  Jay,  by 
the  members  of  the  church  and  congregation  as- 
sembled in  Argyle  Chapel,  Bath,  and  by  other 
friends,  on  the  completion  of  the  fiftieth  year  of 
his  happy  and  useful  pastorate,  as  a  tribute  of 
Christian  esteem,  affection,  and  gratitude.  Janu- 
ary 30th,  1841." 

The  younger  members  of  the  congregation  also 
presented  him  with  a  handsome  gold  medal  and 
a  silver  salver.  Subsequently,  the  servants  of  the 
families  composing  the  congregation  presented 
him  with  a  silver  sugar-basin,  stating  simply,  that 


FAMOUS  BOYS. 

it  came  from  many  attached  female  servants  in 
connection  with  the  church  and  congregation.  Mr. 
Jay  wrote  the  contributors  affectionate  letters,  and 
presented  each  of  them  with  a  volume  of  his 
sermons. 

At  last  the  life  of  this  good  man  came  to  a  close. 
On  the  27th  day  of  December,  1853,  his  spirit  left 
its  earthly  clay  to  join  the  good  who  had  gone 
before.  Thus  closed  the  lengthened  career  of  the 
stone-mason's  apprentice — honored  and  esteemed 
by  the  whole  Christian  world.  How  fittingly  may 
we  close  this  "sketch  in  the  words  of  the  poet: — 

"Honor  and  shame  from  no  condition  rise 
Act  well  your  part — there  all  ihe  honor  lies." 


EOGEE  SHEKMAlSr. 

It  is  said  that  *'  Love  laughs  at  locksmiths."  So 
true  genius  laughs  at  impediments,  and  in  propor- 
tion to  the  severity  of  its  struggles,  gathers 
strength  for  conquest.  The  life  of  Roger  Sher- 
man, at  one  time  a  humble  shoemaker,  illustrates 
this  fact.  He  was  born  at  Newton,  Massachusetts, 
April  19th,  1V21.  Of  his  childhood  and  early 
education  we  know  but  little.  He  received  no 
other  education  than  the  ordinary  country  schools 
in  Massachusetts  at  that  time  afforded,  which  was 
meagre  and  poor  enough,  indeed.  He  was  neither 
assisted  by  public  education  nor  by  private  tuition. 
All  that  he  acquired  were  the  results  of  his  own 
vigorous  efforts ;  he  was  indebted  alone  to  his 
ardent  thirst  for  knowledge  and  his  indefatigable 
industry,  and  by  these  he  attained  an  acquaint- 
ance with  general  science,  logic,  geography,  math- 
ematics, history,  philosophy,  geology,  and  espe- 
cially law  and  politics. 

He  was  apprenticed  at  an  early  age  to  a  shoe- 
maker, and  pursued  that  occupation  until  he  was 
over  twenty-two  years  of  age,  when,  in  obedience 
to  the  necessities  of  his  mother,  he  took  charge  of 


298  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

a  small  farm  that  her  husband  had  left.  While 
employed  in  his  shoe-craft,  not  a  moment's  time 
was  wasted  ;  he  was  accustomed  to  sit  at  his 
work  with  a  book  before  him,  devoting  to  study 
every  moment  that  his  eyes  could  be  spared  from 
the  occupation  in  which  he  was  engaged.  He  thus 
acquired  his  knowledge  of  mathematics,  and  before 
he  was  twenty-one  he  made  astronomical  calcula- 
tions for  an  almanac  published  in  New  York. 

In  1744  the  little  farm  was  sold,  and  the  family, 
consisting  of  his  mother  and  numerous  brothers 
and  sisters,  went  to  reside  in  New  Milford,  Con- 
necticut, where  Roger's  eldest  brother  had  moved 
and  settled.  The  journey  was  performed  by 
Roger  on  foot,  and  he  carried  his  "  kit"  of  shoe- 
maker's tools  on  his  back.  At  this  place  he 
worked  industriously  at  his  trade,  at  the  same 
time  neglecting  no  opportunity  to  increase  his 
store  of  knowledge.  He  learned  rapidly,  for  his 
mind  was  quick,  comprehensive,  and  logical.  Af- 
ter a  while  he  became  a  partner  in  mercantile 
business,  and  applied  himself,  in  his  leisure,  to  the 
study  of  law.  He  soon  became  proficient,  and 
was  admitted  to  the  bar  in  1754.  His  talents 
soon  attracted  public  attention,  and  we  soon  find 
him  in  the  General  Assembly  of  Connecticut.  In 
the  same  year  he  was  appointed  Justice  of  the 
Peace,  and  after  a  practice  of  five  years  was  ap- 
pointed Judge  of  the  Court  for  Litchfield  county. 

But  now  the  Revolution  was  drawing  near,  and 
Mr.  Sherman  became  one  of  the  leading  patriots  in 


EOGER    SHERMAN.  299 

the  State  of  Connecticut.  He  fearlessly  took  part 
with  the  people  in  their  opposition  to  the  Stamp 
Act,  and  in  1774  was  one  of  the  delegates  to  the 
General  Congress  of  the  colonies.  He  was  present 
at  the  openmg  of  the  first  Congress.  In  his  new 
post  of  duty  he  acquired  distinguished  reputa- 
tion, and  was  one  of  the  committee  appointed  to 
prepai-e  that  immortal  instrument,  the  Declara- 
tion of  Independence.  And  during  the  war  he 
rendered  important  public  services ;  John  Adams 
says  of  him,  that  he  was  "  one  of  the  soundest  and 
strongest  pillars  of  the  Revolution."  He  repre- 
sented Connecticut  in  the  convention  that  framed 
the  constitution ;  was  the  first  delegate  from  that 
state  in  the  federal  Congress  after  the  organization 
of  our  present  government ;  and  he  held  a  seat  in 
the  Senate  of  the  United  States  at  the  time  of  his 
death,  which  occurred  on  the  23d  of  July,  1793, 
in  the  seventy-tliird  year  of  his  age. 

The  most  important  practical  lesson  which  we 
derive  from  the  life  of  Mr.  Sherman  is  the  value 
of  habits  of  study  and  meditation.  He  was  dis- 
tinguished for  unflinching  integrity,  for  accurate 
knowledge  ;  he  was  capable  of  deep  and  long  in- 
vestigation ;  and  he  added  to  all  his  other  merits 
the  pre-eminent  one  of  being  devoutly  a  religious 
man.  The  testimonials  to  his  worth  have  been 
singularly  marked  and  unanimous.  Fisher  Ames 
was  accustomed  to  express  his  opinion  by  saying, 
"That  if  he  happened  to  be  out  of  his  seat  [in 
Congress]  when  a  subject  was  discussed,  and  came 


300  FAMOUS    BOYS. 

in  when  the  question  was  about  to  he  taken,  he 
always  felt  safe  in  voting  as  Mr.  Sherman  did, /or 
Tie  always  voted  right?"*  Dr.  Dwight,  while  in- 
structing the  senior  class  at  Yale  College,  obser- 
ved, that  Mr.  Sherman  was  remarkable  for  not 
speaking  in  debate  without  suggesting  something 
new  and  important.  Washington  uniformly  treated 
Mr.  Sherman  with  great  respect  and  attention. 
Mr.  Macon,  a  distinguished  senator  of  the  United 
States,  once  remarked  to  the  Hon.  William  Reed, 
of  Marblehead,  that  "  Roger  Sherman  had  more 
common  sense  than  any  man  he  ever  knew."  The 
late  Rev.  Dr.  Spring,  of  Newburyport,  was  return- 
ing from  the  South,  while  Congress  was  in  session  at 
Philadelphia.  Mr.  Jefferson  accompanied  him  to 
the  hall,  and  designated  several  distinguished  mem- 
bers of  that  body ;  in  the  course  of  this  polite  at- 
tention, he  pointed  in  a  certain  direction,  and  ex- 
claimed, "That  is  Mr.  Sherman,  of  Connecticut,  a 
man  who  never  said  a  foolish  thing  in  his  life." 

Mr.  Sherman  was  sometimes  accused,  but  with- 
out justice,  of  being  vain  of  the  obscurity  of  his 
origin.  From  the  distinguished  eminence  which 
he  reached,  he  probably  contemplated  with  satis- 
faction, that  force  of  mind  and  that  industry  which 
enabled  him  to  overcome  all  the  obstacles  which 
encompassed  his  path.  For  the  gratification 
arising  from  such  a  contemplation,  no  one  will  be 
disposed  to  censure  him. 

THE  END. 


TH«    ILLUSTRATED    EDITION 

OF 

COOFEH'S  NOVELS. 


from  ih«  Boston  TrwvelUr, 
**  Kothlng  biw  been  left  undone  to  render  the  edttton  as  perffect  «8 
&rt,  ent6T(>ri«c,  »nd  liberal  expeujiture  can  render  it.  The  typography 
l8  of  the  moat  eiegrant  description.  The  paper  Is  of  the  Tery  firat  ctass 
of  that  manufacture,  strong,  clean,  and  smooth  as  the  palm  of  a  lady's 
hand.  The  binding  is  at  once  durable  and  beautiful.  The  size  is  tho 
crown  octavo,  universally  allowed  to  be  the  best  both  for  convenience 
and  preservation.  The  illustrations,  which  will  be  6vie  hundred  tn 
number,  will  all  be  designed  by  that  consummate  genius,  P.  0.  C.  Dar- 
ley,  who  will  be  thoroughly  at  home  on  the  pages  of  Cooper.  Sixty- 
four  of  the  illustrations  will  be  on  steel,  engraved  by  the  Bniilies, 
Alfred  Jones,  Delnoce,  Burt,  GIrsh,  Phillibrown,  Andrews,  Pease,  and 
Schoff.  Those  on  wood  will  be  the  woric  of  leading  artists,  among 
whom  are  Edmonds,  Whitney,  the  Orrs,  Bobbett,  and  Anthony.  Thus 
much  for  the  externals  of  the  volumes.  In  other  respects  they  will 
be  found  equally  worthy  of  the  attention  of  the  public.  Each 
Toiume  will  contain  the  last  corrections  of  the  author,  and  will 
on  that  account  alonfe  present  an  unrivalled  claim  to  superiority  over 

any  other  edition We  venture  to  predict  that  this  edition 

of  Cooper  will  be  eminently  Saccessful,  that  it  will  find  its  way  Into  the 
ban<ls  of  every  person  of  taste,  and  that  no  library,  public  or  prirate, 
can  afford  to  be  without  It." 

From  th9  Phtladetphla  PreM. 
"This  new  edition  of  Cooper  will  probably  have  as  large  a  sa'e  as 
any  series  of  volumes  ever  published  In  this  country.  It  is  emphatically 
one  of  the  most  splendid  collections  ever  issued — equalled  only  by  the 
embellished  Ahbotsford  edition  of  Scott'b  Novels,  which  is  too  bulky  la 
size  and  delicate  In  adornment  for  dally  ose.  On  the  cotitrary,  ^U 
Ooopcr  ia  equally  adapted  /or  the  parlor  and  the  library.** 


72  The  Illustrated  Edition  of  Cooper's  ITovelt, 

From  the  Portland  (Me.)  Argue. 

**  The  style  and  finish  of  the  work  are  snch  as  to  make  \t  a  fitting  tes- 
timonial to  the  genius  of  the  most  fascinating  of  all  our  native  writers, 
and  it  should  receive  the  support  and  approval  of  the  American  pub- 

From  the  N.  T.  Evening  Poet, 

**  The  execution  of  the  volume  Is  In  all  respects  worthy  of  the 
genius  of  the  author  whose  work  it  perpetuates,  and  cannot  fail  to  re- 
new the  Interest  that  has  for  so  long  a  time  made  the  name  of  Cooper 
one  of  the  most  prominent  in  American  literature.  The  designs 
by  Darley  are  not  only  executed  in  the  best  style  of  that  eminent 
artist,  but  are  as  original  in  conception  as  is  the  tale  whose  incidents 
they  delineate.  The  illustration  of  this  series  of  novels  has  long  been 
a  favorite  idea  with  Darley,  and  we  can  discover,  not  only  in  the  two 
sketches  of  Leather-Stocking,  which  grace  the  present  volume,  but  in 
several  others  that  have  been  shown  to  us,  the  love  of  the  subject 
which  the  artist  has  brought  to  his  labor.  Henceforth  the  reputation  ol 
Darley  will  be  associated  with  his  illustrations  of  Cooper,  and  no  edition 
Will  be  considered  complete  without  them." 

From  the  Rochester  Union  and  AdverHeer, 

*'A  Great  Ambrican  Entkrprisb — Splendid  Edition  of  Cooper*! 
NovKLS.— It  fell  to  an  American  publishing  house  to  bring  out  the  first 
really  beautiful  Illustrated  edition  of  Scott's  Novels,  and  however 
much  we  felt  bound  and  pleased  to  commend  an  enterprise  so  credit- 
able, we  felt  that  our  own  great  novelist,  Cooper,  speaking  for  his 
country,  deserved  a  like  remembrance.  His  works  have  done  as 
much  to  perpetuate  the  memory  of  revolutionary  heroism,  pioneer  en- 
terprise, and  naval  gallantry  in  our  people,  as  all  the  history  ever 
written.  The  tales  of  Leather-Stocking,  the  noble  hero  of  five  of  his 
novels,  the  story  of  "  The  Wept  of  Wish-ton-Wish,"  are  vivid  pictures 
of  pioneer  life,  when  civilization  was  contending  against  the  savage 
possessors  of  this  continent.  "  The  Spy  "  and  "  Lionel  Lincoln  "  are 
tales  of  the  Revolution,  which  cannot  be  read  too  much.  The 
*'  Pilot,"  "  Red  Rover,"  and  "  Water  Witch,"  are  charming  sea  tales, 
and  illustrate  the  gallantry  of  our  early  seamen.  We  are  happy  to 
see  It  announced  that  his  works  have  not  been  forgotten,  and  that  an 
edition  of  these  novels  will  soon  begin  to  appear  from  an  American 
press  that  will  excel  anything  of  the  kind  ever  issued  In  this  or  any 
other  country." 

From  the  Boston  Transortpt. 

••  This  new  and  beautiful  edition  of  Cooper,  has  received  Its  crowning 
distinction  from  the  vigorous  skillful,  and  we  must  add,  sympathetio 
pencil  ol  P.  0.  C.  Darley.  His  drawings  are  universally  admired  for 
their  expression,  correctness  and  beauty ;  but  In  these  illustrations  of 
Cooper,  he  seems  to  have  found  his  most  congenial  sphere.  No  designs 
executed  in  this  country  can  compare  with  them  for  masterly  finish  and 
efi°ect.  His  genius  is  akin  to  Cooper's  In  a  certain  facile  energy;  h« 
catches  the  very  spirit  of  the  novelist's  scenes  and  characters." 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 


AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  50  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.00  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


APR   2    1946 

riLCEIVED 

2    JAN  1948    Fh 

&i3'6S-aPM 

^  /,  It        'r'  K"ir 

LOAN  Ukfi. 

'v^Lldjwv^.Vj 

wA  AY     V)  labb  ^ 

.JAN  2     19b7 

.4     -'M      ♦■''■»■    ^ 

1  *  -  "* 

RtCD  L 

M^    '64-2  P' 

I 

013  W  '^ 

%,■- . 

ivil41164 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  UBRARY 


